To Tell An Altswood Lie (The Altswood Saga #3)

Chapter 5 - Ploy

Chapter 5 - Ploy

I tugged my bag further up my shoulder, pausing by the school gates to wait for Annabelle. It was my usual routine before class, but today, I was tempted to instead hide under the shade of a giant tree where no one could see me.

Gabriel had run home first to get changed and grab his books, telling me he would meet us at school. He hadn't seemed worried about how other people would react to the incriminating footage that aired last night. I tried to not think too much of it either.

Still, I had put on a blonde wig and a pair of sunglasses to block out the glare of the morning sky. Unless you squinted, it would be hard to tell that I was Luca Fern. That was the only reason other students were streaming past me without a second glance.

I hummed a jaunty tune underneath my breath, trying to trick myself into a cheerier outlook on life. When I had finished running through three impromptu songs, I checked my phone for the time, noticing that Annabelle was running unusually late. Her dad always drove her to school before catching the ferry and going to work on mainland, so if Annabelle was late, her dad would be late in opening up his store as well.

I composed a concerned text, asking if she was on her way. Right as I hit send, I scanned the roadside again and finally spotted her dad's car parked along the curb, a few blocks away. My spirits lifting, I waved, thinking Annabelle had spotted me from inside.

But Annabelle was too busy arguing with her dad.

As I watched, it quickly became clear that the situation wasn't just a few furrowed eyebrows and clenched fists; it was wildly gesticulating arms and spittle flying from their lips as they screamed. Students that were passing by shot alarmed glances at the car, but otherwise kept moving once they saw Annabelle in the passenger seat, marking it off as another outlandish incident involving the four of Bottle Island's infamous survivors.

I started moving towards the parked car, becoming more worried by the second. Once I was close enough, I eased my sunglasses off, clearing my field of vision. The movement must have drawn their attention, because Mr. Martinez looked up, and saw me standing on the pavement. His expression darkened, though he still nodded politely when I tried to smile.

Annabelle took advantage of that pause to get out of the car. As her door opened, I caught the snippet of a command, something like, "We're not done here—" before she slammed the passenger door and marched up to me.

"Let's go," she said tightly, hooking her arm through mine.

I put my sunglasses away. "What was that all about?" I whispered.

"Nothing," Annabelle insisted. "You know how it is."

I glanced over my shoulder, where her car continued idling. "It didn't look like nothing," I replied. "Annabelle, what's going on?"

She bit her lip, chewing at the skin that gathered in the corners. "Talk spreads like wildfire on this island, Luca," she sighed. "People gossip. Spread concerns. My parents want me to cut off contact with you and Gabriel completely."

My eyes bugged. "What?" I hissed. "They believe the footage?"

Annabelle shrugged helplessly as we crossed the quad. "I guess it's hard not to? The two people are dead ringers. They've got your hair, your clothes from that day—" She cut herself off, holding out a hand. "Not that I'd ever think it is you two."

"It's okay," I said, shouldering open the double doors to the main hallway. "Even I started doubting myself and wondered if it was another blacking-out-and-acting-with-no-memory scenario."