Emma’s lips twisted downward. Once upon a time, Nisha had been friends with Sutton—or at least friendly enough to invite her to a birthday party, friendly enough to skate arm in arm with her. It looked like Nisha had put it up recently, after she’d started hanging out with Emma.
For a moment I heard a distant sound of childish laughter echoing down the corridors of my memory. That day at the ice rink, Nisha and I had tried to teach ourselves some of the tricks we’d seen during the Olympics. Michelle Kwan made toe loops look so easy, but we spent most of our time falling flat on our butts and laughing at ourselves. I couldn’t remember why we’d ended up hating each other so much. Maybe it had just been that we were similar in all the wrong ways. We wanted the same things, and we were both willing to fight for them.
Emma climbed back to her feet and sighed. If there had ever been any evidence here, it was already in the hands of the killer. After all, Sutton’s murderer had been a step ahead of her since she first arrived in Tucson. Why would this time be any different?
She stood in the doorway, sweeping her gaze one more time around Nisha’s bedroom. Good-bye, Nisha, she thought. I’m so sorry you got pulled into this. She turned off the light and started the long walk back down the hallway. At the kitchen door she drew to a sudden stop, biting the corner of her lip. Then, impulsively, she went to the counter and started to gather the empty food containers. She found a roll of paper towels under the sink and wiped the counters down, then loaded the dishwasher, moving as quietly as she could. Somewhere in the house she could hear the low murmur of a television set.
Then she stuffed the takeout boxes into a garbage bag and carried it with her, past the night-light, past the beautiful furniture and the brightly colored tapestries and the elegant vases and all the other things that Dr. Banerjee had shared, once upon a time, with his family—back into the darkness beyond.
Good-bye, Nisha. I added my farewell to my sister’s. I promise, whoever did this to us is going to pay.
5
HER CHEATING HEART
After the final bell rang the next day at school, Emma slowly gathered her books from her locker. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face the tennis team, not yet. It would be an emotional practice. Emma blinked away a tear, looking at her reflection in the tiny mirror inside Sutton’s locker. Pull it together, she commanded herself, and slammed the door shut. Then she did a double take.
Thayer Vega was standing there, waiting to talk to her.
My dead-girl heart gave a lurch at the sight of him. A gray henley shirt pulled tight across his muscular chest. His dark hair hung down over one eye, and his backpack was slung casually over his shoulder. Thayer had been the only boy I’d ever loved, the one person who really knew me.
“Hey,” Emma said, hugging her books to her chest and giving him a shaky smile.
In the past month, she and Thayer had started to establish a cautious friendship. He was a good listener, and when Becky showed up in Emma’s life again, he was one of the few people she felt safe telling. She’d started to think the two of them could put his relationship with Sutton behind them and be friends—until he kissed her at Charlotte’s party two weeks ago. She’d pulled away, but not before he had a chance to realize something was wrong. He’d confronted her two days later, saying he knew something was off about her; and while she’d managed to dismiss his accusations, she knew he was still suspicious.
A wave of relief swept over her as she remembered Mrs. Mercer’s plea to keep the news about Becky’s other daughter a secret—if Thayer found out that Sutton had a long-lost twin, Emma had a feeling it wouldn’t take long for him to figure out who she really was.
“Hey,” he said, hefting the backpack farther across his back. “Are you heading out to the courts?”
“I’m not in any hurry,” she said, smiling ruefully. “It’s going to be like a second funeral.”
“I get that.” He searched her face for a moment. “How are you holding up?”
“Me? I’m okay.” Emma’s voice sounded too high in her ears, strained and anxious. He just looked at her.
“Come on, I’ll walk with you to the locker rooms,” Thayer said.
“Did you guys have a good Thanksgiving?” Emma asked, trying to make small talk as they paced down the hall.
He gave a bitter bark of laughter. “The usual. Mom burned the turkey, and Dad threw a wineglass at her. Mads and I ended up sneaking out and getting Burger King.”
She gave him a sympathetic look. Thayer’s family was at best volatile, and at worst downright abusive. “Sorry, Thayer. That sounds awful.”
He shrugged. “It was par for the course around Casa Vega. And neither of us was in much mood for family time anyway.”
Emma nodded. “Yeah. Mom and Dad cooked a big turkey dinner because they’d already bought the groceries and they didn’t want it to go to waste, but they should have just stuck everything in the freezer. No one had much appetite. Except Drake,” she added, smiling at the memory of the Great Dane, who’d casually sauntered past a countertop and inhaled a platter of sweet potatoes.
The halls were mostly empty by now, with the exception of a few drama kids wearing black robes for the school production of The Crucible. A pimply boy carrying a tuba hurried out of the music wing and disappeared through the doors leading to the football field.
As they crossed the flagstones of a small courtyard, Emma heard a dark chuckle from a bench in the corner. It was Garrett, his gaze pinned sharply on her. He was alone, his gear bag slouched on the ground next to him. His eyes were hard and angry, his lips twisted with bitter amusement.