The Inheritance Games Chapter Rewrites

The Art of War-V1 (Ch. 73 of TIG)

Summary: A rewrite of Ch. 73 from The Inheritance Games where Avery doesn't let Thea walk all over her and lets her get the upper hand during the bathroom scene at the gala. She defends herself and threatens the overly confident Ms. Calligaris instead, showing her exactly who she's trying to mess with. Things get a little wild. There are four versions.

I opened the text and the picture attached, and all of the blood drained from my face. In this photo, Emily Laughlin wasn't laughing. She was smiling at the camera—a wicked little smile, like she was on the verge of a wink. Her makeup was natural, but her eyes looked unnaturally large, and her hair...

Was exactly like mine.

"What did you do?" I asked Thea again, more accusation this time than question. She'd invited herself along on my shopping trip. She was the one who'd suggested I wear green—just like Emily wore in this photo.

Even my necklace was eerily like hers.

I'd assumed, when the stylist had asked if I wanted to look like the picture, that Alisa was the one who'd supplied it. I'd assumed it was a photo of a model. Not a dead girl.

"Why would you do this?" I asked Thea, amending my question.

"It's what Emily would have wanted." Thea pulled a tube of lipstick out of her purse. "If it's any consolation," she said, once she was finished turning her lips a sparkling ruby red, "I didn't do this to you."

She'd done it to them.

"The Hawthornes didn't kill Emily," I spat. "Rebecca said that it was her heart."

Technically, she'd said that Grayson had said it was her heart.

"How sure are you that the Hawthorne family isn't trying to kill you?" Thea smiled. She had been there this morning. She'd been shaken. And now she was acting like this was all a joke. That seemed to be common with the Hawthornes and those involved with them, among other things. It was either avoidance and letting it build up inside till it transformed to anger, constantly keeping quiet about it, being tricky, sarcastic, and ironic with a taste for vengeance, or twisting words and turning everything into a game. I was seeing the pattern but frankly, I'd seen plenty and I had enough of it, too. My own mother had died and I mourned, grieved, went through the whole five stages of depression but even I didn't pull shit like this. Even if I had been living as a rich kid at the time, I feel like even then, I wouldn't act that way, that I would be more pulled together and have my behavior intact.

"Emily, it's always Emily with you idiots. What is actually wrong with you? Why do you feel the need to do what Emily would have wanted, huh?" I asked mockingly. I started to move toward her, leaning forward as I forced her back and boy, was it satisfying to see the look of shock on her face. "Are you possessed by her, you want me to get you an exorcist? Because I'll gladly do so and have them awaiting you in your room the moment that you come back from the gala. I'll make sure they stay with you until her spirit is exorcized out of you, no matter how long that ritual is, be that an hour, a day, or a whole damn year. Even multiple rituals if needed so that you can finally get your flipping life together and get your shit straight." I paused for a moment but stalked after her as she moved back to the wall, one sharp click of the heels after another. Her lipstick dropped onto the counter and rolled onto the floor but I didn't avoid the open tube, instead I walked right over it, mushing it under the ball of my foot. I didn't care in that moment that it would stain the bottom of my shoe or leave a smear on the marble squares, that was a problem for later. Right then, I was trying to prove a point. My eyes were narrowed and each word that came out of my mouth felt like it was dripping with spite. "Or I can completely kick you out of the house, get a restraining order against you, and call security on you if I ever get news that you're trespassing on the property."

She actually trembled and her pupils were blown wide but I wasn't going to let her breathe, to catch a single breath. That devious, I-won-this-match, Cheshire cat smile from before was nowhere to be seen; it was long gone. It was a sight to behold, Thea Calligaris looking, even for a second, anything close to resembling defeat. I stopped short of her and exhaled long, feeling like I had just fumed smoke into the air from my ears. 

Then, recomposing myself, I gave her a fake smile, making it as menacing as possible as my hands clasped together. "So, what's it going to be, Thea?" My voice dropped low, trying to sound deadly and going in for the kill but I made sure to finish off in an overly sweet tone. This time, I knew I had her; there wasn't going to be any more crossing me, at least for the rest of the night. I was tired of being used and messed with. Maybe Alisa wanted me to be seen by the media and the rest of the world over as a sweet, vulnerable, ordinary girl but no one said that when the cameras weren't rolling and there was no audience, that I couldn't show my claws and draw blood of my own. And that time was now.

Thea lifted her chin, still clearly trying to stay defiant as if being anything else would be below her standard. "You haven't answered me yet. So...What's. It. Gonna. Be?" I repeated. "I don't care that people are gonna be looking for us soon, I can wait here all night. I'm not sure if anyone's told you yet but if you continue this, people will end up looking back, remembering you as just the girl who peaked in high school with a streak for revenge with the schizophrenic voices in her head. I've played the game of cat and mouse before and won. You seem to have never experienced what it's like to lose so I'm courteously teaching you that lesson now. Take it down a notch and we're cool, otherwise, beat it. I'm not your cat toy, you twisted psychopath. And leave the boys alone, too. They've done nothing to you and most definitely not to Emily. It's quite plainly put, pathetic what you're doing. Are you five, because if not, as I'm sure you aren't, have much better things to do like growing a pair. Get over yourself."

The din of silence was heavy in the bathroom and the only thing I could hear was the sound of my heavy breathing slowing down. I waited a minute and when I realized that I wasn't going to get an answer, I decided to turn back to the mirror. My fingers tucked loose wisps behind my ear and I straightened my dress before walking to the door. Just as I was about to reach for the handle, I heard her murmur something but couldn't quite make out what.

I only turned my head slightly in her direction. "What was that?"

"They'll ruin you," she rasped. Her voice sounded dry and stuck somewhere deep in her throat.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"You'll end up just like her. They will break you, too, like everything else they touch; they always do. You won't last the whole year there."

"We'll see about that, Thea, we'll see. I'll bet you my entire inheritance on it." As my hand grasped the handle, I let myself look at her one final time in her broken state, leaning against the wall, words on the tip of my tongue but decided against it. My mouth shut and I faced the door again, twisting the knob and pushing it open. I had a gala to attend. Tonight was my night, after all. But one thought lingered that made me smile in satisfaction. Who was the broken one now?