The moment I reach the staircase, Stef's arms are around my waist and my knees slam into the steps with a violent thud. The impact shudders through me, pain cracking like lightening up my thighs and down my shins.
"Get off me!" I thrash against her hold and force myself toward the first landing, the tang of warm copper oozing down the back of my throat.
Stef's voice is high-pitched and pleading. "I'm not letting you ruin this! After everything I've been through, I deserve a new life—don't I? Emma didn't want it anyway. All she ever did was complain. I did that girl a favor."
"A favor? You sold her into a sex ring!"
As I crawl toward the final step, a surge of adrenaline shoots through my limbs. I fling myself across the landing, trying to gain the upper hand, but when I attempt to roll away, Stef is on top of me, her bony fingers pinning my wrists above my head.
Her bottom lip is split open, and blood smears across her chin. "Weren't you listening? I said Emma was nothing but trouble," she hisses through her teeth. "We barely made it out of the state before I needed to call Benicio."
The blood runs cold in my veins. "Benicio was with you?"
"He was nearby in case things went south—which, of course, they did. Exactly like I told him they would, the pinche estúpido."
My heart beats faster, like a hummingbird trying to break out of my chest. "Did he hurt her?"
Annoyance flickers across her face. "No, he didn't hurt her—"
A swell of relief weakens every muscle. I go limp. If Emma's not hurt, then maybe she'll be okay? Maybe it's not too late to fix whatever damage has been done.
"—she was already dead by the time he got there."
No. No.
The words hit me like a sledgehammer, pulverizing the walls of my chest. My entire world tilts, and the rest of what Stef says gets muddled by the rush of blood in my ears.
Emma's dead. She's been dead all along. The entire time we searched for her. And all the while Stef's been here, trying to take her place.
How did I not know she was gone? Shouldn't I have sensed something? Some sort of internal warning? And if not me, what about her mom and dad? Aren't parents supposed to have an unearthly connection to their children; a super-sensitive instinct they can feel inside their bones?
Instead, we clung to the hope that Emma was alive. We played the game exactly how Stef knew we would, so eager to believe whatever lies she fed to us. How stupid I've been. How stupid we've all been.
"We had some fun at the motel, but when the drugs started wearing off, she pieced together what was happening. Only it was too late. We were already heading back to Florida when that crazy bitch grabbed the steering wheel and we ended up in a cornfield."
The cornfield where Emma's truck was found. The blood in the backseat. The clumps of hair, and torn letterman jacket. The police warned us, they said the outcome didn't look good and not to expect a miracle.
They were right.
Grief closes my throat, and my voice doesn't work. I try to force it out, but it leaks between my lips like air from a punctured balloon.
"Shhhh, Hayes, don't try to talk. There's nothing left to say. Emma wanted out of Menteuse and she got her wish. This godforsaken town is no longer making her miserable. That's a public service, if you think about it."
"You killed my best friend."
Her expression darkens. "That's not fair—it was in self-defense. Emma went nuts. If she'd kept her cool and let things play out the way they were supposed to, she'd still be alive."
Anger rages through me. I crane my neck forward as far as I can and yell in her face. "Do you think living would have been any better? What you had planned would have killed her, even if it was only on the inside. You're a monster—you and everyone you work with. You're going to rot in hell for what you did!"
Stef's grip tightens around my wrists, and her lips curl into a snarl. "I already paid for my sins. And now I've risen from the flames."
A torrent of emotions pummel through me, and I take a deep, shaky breath to clear my head. I can feel her desperation. Desperate people do desperate things.
Emma figured out what was going on. That she'd made a terrible mistake and trusted the wrong person. She tried to save herself, but couldn't. I'm afraid to know what happened next—but more than that, I'm afraid I'll never know.
"How did you do it?" I ask, my voice catching as it leaves my mouth.
Dark hair falls like a curtain alongside her face. She flips it out of the way. "Are you seriously asking me for details?"
"I need to know what happened."
"Some things are better left a mystery."
"Just tell me! You already said you're getting rid of me. What's the harm in coming clean?"
Stef eyes me somberly. "The only thing you need to know is that I never intended to kill her. The plan was to get her to Benicio and he'd take care of the rest."
"Why did you keep her driver's license?"
She shakes her head. Shrugs in exasperation. "I don't know. Why does anyone hold on to something that doesn't belong to them? Sentimental value, I guess."
What would she know about sentiment? I'll bet she doesn't have a nostalgic bone in her body. It's more likely a souvenir. A badge of honor for a job well done. But instead of saying that to her face, I swallow back the bitterness creeping across my tongue. "Did you bury her in the woods where they found her shoe?"
Stef laughs, a low, guttural cackle from somewhere deep inside her chest. "I had no idea how easy it would be to throw off law enforcement. Just goes to show that people will believe whatever they want to believe. It's the same way Emma's parents were so willing to accept a complete stranger as their child. If you wish for something hard enough, it's bound to come true—even if it defies logic. I'm living proof.
"Never in a million years would I have thought I could pull something like this off. But I had to try." She bites her lip, her front teeth sinking into the bloody flesh. "We'd seen the news reports about the missing soccer princess from Ohio, but up until that point, Benicio and I were the only ones who knew what had happened. So when that fat fuck dropped dead from a heart attack a couple of months later, it was the miracle I'd been waiting for."
"Benicio is dead?"
"Crazy, right? Talk about perfect timing."
On some sick level, I understand what she's saying. With Benicio out of the picture, it was the perfect opportunity for Stef to escape the life she'd been born into. A life no one deserves, especially an innocent child. If she hadn't kidnapped and killed my best friend, maybe I'd even be proud of her. But she did—and now she wants to get rid of me, too.
Except there's no way that's happening. When Rowan was a baby, I made a promise to always watch out for her. To keep her safe from the cruelties of the world so she could grow up happy and healthy.
I'm not breaking that promise.
I stare at Stef's triumphant expression as a strategy rearranges itself in my mind. "This isn't your fault. You didn't ask for that life. You did what you needed to do to survive. I hope Benicio suffered before he died, the way he caused so much pain and suffering for others. Not many people could have done what you did, and yet, here you are. You made the entire world believe you're someone you're not, and that's because you're a survivor."
The smug expression slips from her face and is replaced with uncertainty. "I didn't want to kill anyone. But it was either her or me."
"I understand that, and so will the police. If Emma had gotten away, Benicio would have blamed you. He would have made you pay."
She nods, her eyes growing glassy. "I had no choice."
A dizzy sensation takes over my head. "Of course you didn't. But you have one now. If you tell the police what happened, they won't blame you either. They'll know you're a victim, the same way Emma was. The way your mother still is. It's Benicio's fault she's in prison, isn't it? If you tell them the truth, maybe they'll reconsider your mom's sentence and set her free? You can be together."
Stef stills, like a wild animal sensing danger, and a single tear falls from her eye onto my cheek.
An energy I can't read rolls off of her in choppy waves. She's not as confident as she was earlier. She's vulnerable. Fragile even. I need to reason with her. Get her to see that the only way to save her future is to turn herself in.
I continue to prod. "Emma's parents are rich. What if they give you a reward for telling the truth?"
Stef lets out a snort. "After what I did? That's not going to happen."
"But it wasn't your fault! Benicio made you do it. They'll understand."
She shakes her head, her dark eyes growing narrow. "I know what you're trying to do and it's not going to work. My name is Emma Giselle Navarro. And after six months of hell, I came back from the dead. I live in a great big beautiful house with my doting parents, who are so guilt-ridden, they bend over backwards to keep me happy and safe. For the first time in my life, I want for nothing. Nothing. There's no way I'm giving that up." She sneaks a look over my head. "Now about your sister..."
Before I can respond, Stef drives her knee forward and a sharp pain explodes between my legs. Air rushes from my lungs in a single huff. As I gasp for breath, she hurdles herself over my head and up the second flight of stairs before I'm even on my feet.
I force my legs up the remaining steps, my muscles wobbly with fear and adrenaline. Rowan was supposed to lock my door. That should be the barricade I'll need to corner her.
But that's not what happens.
When Stef turns the knob, my door swings open with ease. But instead of going inside, she comes to a sudden halt, her black boots rooted in place. Surprise twists her features.
A blast of cold air slaps me in the face as I push past her. And that's when I see it.
For a moment, all I can do is stare, my brain fighting to make sense of the scene. My bedroom window is wide open, and Rowan is straddling the sill, one hand on the ledge, the other hand gripping her cane.
My stomach drops out from underneath me. "Rowan!" I thrust myself forward and drag her back inside, my hands clutching each shoulder. "What are you doing?"
She steadies herself, her eyebrows crinkling inward, her face a mask of sheer panic. "I heard you fighting and I was going to get help," she says in a shaky voice.
"But you're—" I stop, swallow what I'm about to say. Start again. "You could fall. Never ever go out the window, do you hear me? Why didn't you lock the door like I told you to?"
Her lower lip trembles. "I tried to, but it wouldn't work."
Of course the lock doesn't work. I broke it this morning when I had to manipulate my way back in.
Tears and guilt blur my vision. "That was very brave, but promise me you'll never do that again."
"But I—"
I give her a quick shake. "Promise me, Rowan!"
She swallows hard, her blue eyes brimming with tears. "I promise."
As I fold her into a hug and try to blink away the image of her falling, an amused chuckle flares up from across the room.
"This is almost too perfect," Stef says, her hand still on the doorknob. "I've climbed through your window before. That sloped roof is a real bitch—even for someone who can see. It's too bad her rescue efforts were in vain."
I shove Rowan behind me and face Stef head on. "You don't want to do this. You have to know, I'm not letting you anywhere near my sister. I'll go to my grave before I let you touch her."
"That's what I'm counting on."
The words linger in my stomach like an ulcer. "You said you didn't want to hurt anyone."
Stef drops her hand from the doorknob and takes a step closer. "Did I? I don't remember that."
"We haven't done anything wrong! If you try to get rid of us, you're no better than Benicio."
"I don't imagine I am, seeing how he's my father." Her lips curl at the corners. "Did I forget to mention that? Why do you think my mother was allowed to keep me? Because he had a soft spot for babies? Ha! He was probably hoping for a son to take over his business one day."
Her own father did this to her; forced her into a life of cruelty and abuse. I can't hide my shock. But I shake my head, not wanting to get distracted. "What happened to Emma?"
"I already told you, some things are better left unknown."
A gust of wind pushes at my back, rustles the hair around my face. "Where's her body? There's no reason why you can't tell me. What am I gonna do about it? You've got me trapped."
She pretends to ponder my question before stepping closer. "Round like an apple, deep like a cup. But all the king's horses cannot pull it up. What am I?"
A chill crawls over my skin. "I'm not playing your games!"
"If you want to know so badly, you have no choice. But honestly, I don't think you have time. You've lost a lot of blood, Hayes. You must be feeling pretty woozy about now."
My hand flies to my neck. It throbs beneath my palm, and the front of my sweater is covered in blood. It takes Stef pointing it out for me to realize I'm lightheaded.
She's trying to distract you, don't let it work.
"I'm sorry it has to be this way," Stef continues in a voice that almost sounds sincere. With careful movements, she inches closer, as if she's approaching a stray dog and isn't sure if it's going to bite. "I had every intention of coming to Menteuse and being your friend. I even went as far as to get the other half of your tattoo. If you'd given me a chance, I think you would have liked me."
I shake my head. "I don't think so. Emma was kind. She was genuine. She had a good heart and everyone loved her. All you had to do was look into her eyes to see what kind of person she was. Your eyes are nothing but dead."
"Dead?" Stef stills, then smiles. The movement splits her lip open even wider. "That's an ironic way to put it." She leaps forward with surprising force, and grabs me by the hair. I push Rowan aside. She curls into a ball against the wall, her knees pulled tight to her chest.
My hands thrust forward to keep Stef at arm's length, but I'm not fast enough. An involuntary scream rushes from my lips.
Stef's voice is strained as she hooks her arm around my neck. "This doesn't have to be difficult, Hayes. Have you learned nothing from Emma? She fought back and it only made things worse."
"You may have fooled Emma, but you didn't fool me or my sister. Wanna know why?" My fingers wrap around her forearm, pulling the pressure away from my windpipe, but I'm already losing air. "Because you're not nearly as good as you think you are. It would only be a matter of time before everyone realizes you're a fraud."
"Smith said you questioned my behavior but no one believed you. Wanna know why?" she mocks back, her lips slithering against my ear. "Because you're crazy. Your parents know you're crazy; your friends know you're crazy. Even your boyfriend knows you're crazy. What kind of friend hooks up with her dead BFF's boyfriend anyway? Only a crazy one, that's who. And not only that, but you took Emma's place as captain of the soccer team, too. Face it, Hayes. Emma was everything you're not, and you were so fucking jealous. Seems to me like you were trying to steal her life well before I came along."
The accusation strikes a chord. I twist myself toward her body and gulp in the autumn air, my inner arm working to free itself. From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Rowan. Her cane is pinched between her legs, her tiny hands cupped over her ears.
The fear on her face hollows my chest. I hate that she's here, that she has to witness this. That she knows she's not safe. I've made mistakes, so many mistakes, but I'm not going to screw this up.
Protecting my sister is everything.
White hot rage rips through me. "There's still time to make this right," I say, still struggling to release my arm. "Turn yourself in."
"Never."
"You're a murderer."
"I deserve this life!" Stef screams. She tries to readjust her grip. "This isn't about Emma anymore. It's too late for her. This is about me. I'm finally getting a chance to start over."
"I'm sorry about all the shit you've been through! It's not fair, and it never should have happened. But it doesn't mean you get to play God. You killed someone, and you're not getting away with it."
"You wanna bet? When everyone hears about the psychotic episode you had in front of your little sister and how I tried to intervene, I'll be a hero. It's just a shame I wasn't able to save either one of you."
She's going to kill us.
For the first time, it almost seems possible. I'm getting slower, weaker. My thoughts hazy. My vision slips out of focus and a sliver of panic shivers through me. I can't let go. I need to stay strong and unbind my arm. Rowan's life depends on it.
"Don't you dare touch my sister." My voice is low and quivering. "She's just a little girl."
"I was a little girl once, too. Did anyone care about that?" she demands. "It's like you said. Some things aren't fair, are they?"
From behind her, Rowan lets out a meager squeak and it's the distraction I need to free my inner arm. When Stef's hold weakens, I reach around toward her face, my fingers clawing at her eye sockets. They gouge at the bony pockets and she howls out in pain. This time when I push against her, she teeters enough that I can slip out of reach.
Blood streams down Stef's cheek like scarlet tears. Her nostrils flare. "You shouldn't have done that, Hayes. Big mist—"
My fist slams into her face. But she's like a wild animal, the punch barely fazing her. When she lunges forward, I hit her again.
This time, Stef seesaws to the left and then the right before stumbling back. A gust of wind blows her hair forward and momentarily obscures her face. She's dangerously close to the window. I reach forward, my arms outstretched.
But a feeling takes over me. An odd sort of electricity.
My gaze moves to Rowan. She's still against the wall, but her hands are no longer covering her ears. They're gripping her cane. She shoves it forward just as Stef staggers back. Stef's heels connect with the rod and her body delivers an unexpected jolt.
In a flash, her dark eyes widen with shock, the blood vessels taking over the white. She falls backward toward the open window and careens over the sill, disappearing from sight.
My jaw quivers, all the air leaving my lungs in a breathy rush.
For a beat, I'm too stunned to react. To put one foot in front of the other. But then I force myself to peer over the ledge.
Nothing.
My hands grip the frame and I lean out the window as far as I can, but Stef's not there. She's not anywhere.
I suck in another breath, the cool air stimulating the nerve endings in my brain. I push away from the window and stagger back. "Stay here," I tell Rowan. "I'll be right back."
I race from the room and scramble down the stairs, hurtling myself toward the sliding glass doors. And there she is, sprawled against the patio pavers, her back arched at an odd angle. Her dark hair shielding her face.
The truth is out. The reign of lies over.
What stamina I have left seeps away and all I want to do is collapse. Everything feels so far away. Wind howling through the yard, the echo of a police siren somewhere in the distance, a relentless pounding on the front door.
The front door...
An explosion from behind sends jagged shards of glass across the foyer floor.
It's Smith. He looks petrified, the way his hazel eyes wildly scan over me, the uneven tilt of his brows. His mouth is moving but I can't hear what he's saying over thumping in my ears.
"It's finally over." The words come out in one slurred syllable. My body crumples and he catches me before I fall.
"What's over?" Smith's voice is panicked as he gives me a gentle shake. "Arbor, stay with me. The police are on their way. What happened to you?"
"It was Stef." A warmth dampens my lips, tastes like metal across my tongue. "On the patio."
"Stef?" His question gets lost in a shocked gasp, his eyes drifting toward the backyard. "Oh my God."
"Emma's dead," I tell him. "Stef killed her."
One Mississippi.
Two Mississippi.
Three Mississippi.
Four.
I collapse against him and am tugged into total darkness.