The reporter backed into the side of his car, eyeing Drake the whole way. He groped around for the door handle, and then he was off, leaving Emma, Mr. Mercer, and Drake in a cloud of exhaust.
Emma strode over to where the card lay and plucked it up. Then she ripped it into tiny pieces and threw them in the air. Mr. Mercer watched her with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Did you know that was a reporter?” he asked.
“I . . . I suspected,” she stammered.
He sighed, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I wish I could protect you from them, Sutton. They’re going to be all over the place.” He rubbed Drake behind the ears. The dog’s tail whipped wildly back and
forth. Then he laughed. “‘Second-rate gossip rag’?”
Emma broke into a sheepish grin. “That’s right. Those reporters are the ones who are going to need protection.” She held up her fists and pretended to box.
I trailed behind my father and sister as they walked back toward home. I wished Dad could protect Emma, too—I wished he could keep all the danger now threatening her at bay. But I knew as well as Emma did
that it had to be the other way around. She was the only one who could protect him. It hadn’t been Garrett in the car this time. But sooner or later, he’d make good on his threats. He’d come for our
family, and when he did, she had to be ready.
13
SISTER ACT
Since she’d taken Sutton’s place three months earlier, Emma had gotten used to the wide berth given her by most of the students at Hollier High. Sutton was notorious, after all, and no one wanted to get
caught in the crossfire of a Lying Game prank. But the following day, when the crowds parted before her and Laurel as they made their way down the hall, it felt different. On either side she could hear barely
stifled whispers.
“Did you hear the dead girl was her sister?”
“Her twin sister.”
“Yeah, right. I don’t care what you say, this is some kind of prank. Remember last year, when she told everyone she’d been carjacked?”
Emma kept her breath steady and even as she walked, trying not to let panic overtake her. She had never gotten used to everyone looking at her, and now they weren’t even bothering to hide it. If she ever
needed to channel Sutton’s bitchiest attitude, it was now.
She rounded a corner to see Charlotte and Madeline standing by her locker. When they caught sight of her they hurried forward to meet her, both of them looking pale and worried. Charlotte carried two paper
coffee cups and tried to hand her one and hug her at the same time.
“There you are,” she murmured, her voice low. “Are you okay?” Emma took the cup gratefully. The night before, she’d set up a three-way video-chat with Charlotte and Madeline to tell them everything that
had happened. She hadn’t wanted to have to explain more than once. By then they’d seen the news—Madeline couldn’t stop saying that it was “so weird,” and Charlotte had seemed almost hurt that “Sutton”
hadn’t told them about her twin. But to their credit, both girls had seemed more worried about her than anything else.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Madeline barked at a short boy in a flannel shirt who seemed to be lingering a few feet away, listening. He jumped and scuttled off, looking terrified. She sighed, running
her hand over her sleek, jet-black hair.
Emma smiled her thanks. “I can’t believe these people.”
“I can’t believe how calm you are,” Charlotte said, eyeing Emma. “I’d be a mess.”
“Well, my sister’s a great actress,” Laurel said, looking steadily at Emma as she spoke.
Emma squirmed under her friends’ stares. She adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “Well, I’m not as calm as I look. In fact, I need some air. I’m going to step out, okay?” And before they could say
anything in reply, she hurried out the glass door into the courtyard. She took a deep, grateful breath. Soon she would have to go back in there, enter another classroom, and deal with more questions and
stares and snide whispers, but for this one moment she could just be.
The courtyard was deeply shadowed, the morning sun still too low to touch the corners of the little square. She was alone—everyone else was on their way to class. A handful of acacia trees in terra-cotta
planters dotted the area. She took a step toward the shade-dappled benches.
Then a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. She shrieked, instinctively stepping back, but the hand clenched tighter around her. And then she saw who it was.
Thayer.
Dark shadows hung under his eyes, which shone with a manic gleam. He stood looking down at her, still holding her arm in a tight grip, and Emma was suddenly and painfully aware how much taller and stronger he
was.
“You need to tell me the truth,” he hissed. “Now.”
Emma looked around frantically, but no one saw them. The bell for class rang inside.