The Lying Game #6: Seven Minutes in Heaven

Agassi crouched over his bowl, eating his kibble with a crunch that seemed loud in the silent kitchen. Ethan pushed the patio door open, then turned back to face her. For a moment her legs refused to budge. 

 

She stood frozen in the middle of the room, her eyes wide and staring, her heart hammering in her chest. For a split second she thought she saw Ethan’s expression shift, an uncertain frown flickering over 

 

his face. She swallowed hard, then followed him out the door.

 

Her only hope was to play along like nothing had changed and get to the police station. Once she was there, once she was safe, then she could start to think of a better plan. She forced a smile as they pushed 

 

back through the wrought-iron gate to where Ethan had parked his car. “I can’t believe this is almost over,” she whispered.

 

“Me neither.” He ran his fingertips lightly up her arm. She shivered at the touch, her throat constricting in a wave of revulsion.

 

Ethan opened the passenger-side door of his Honda. Panic ripped through me as I realized my sister was going to get in with him. I wished I could grab her shirt and pull her back.

 

Emma seemed to have the same thought—she paused with one sneaker on the footboard. Fear clawed at her stomach, but there was something else churning there too, a softer, sadder emotion. Ethan stood next to 

 

her, waiting to close the door for her the way he always did. He gave her a curious look. She reached up to put her hand on his cheek.

 

“Thank you, Ethan,” she said. And slowly, she stood up on her tiptoes and placed a single, soft kiss on his lips.

 

She didn’t know whether she had kissed him to lull him into a false sense of security—or to say good-bye.

 

Ethan gave her a long, tender look, his hand touching her lips. Then he shut the door carefully behind her, walking around the car to get in on the driver’s side. Emma clutched the sides of the seat as they 

 

pulled away from the house, her knuckles white and aching.

 

The scant houses they passed were draped in red and green lights, plastic reindeer perched on roofs or in Xeriscaped yards. One family had hung a giant neon candy cane over their four-car garage. The roads 

 

were winding out here, and she felt disoriented in the darkness. Emma’s stomach pitched with every turn, her breath shallow and fast. She watched Ethan from the corner of her eye. He drove with both hands on 

 

the wheel, his face washed out by the pale blue dashboard light. It gave him a spooky, alien look. Not quite human.

 

It only slowly dawned on her that something was not quite right—they should have hit a main road by now. She stared out the window, trying to figure out where they were. When she saw the neon candy cane for 

 

a second time, she turned to look at him.

 

“I think you missed the turn,” she said, her voice tight with anxiety.

 

Alarm bells started to go off at the back of my mind. I stared silently at Ethan. He didn’t take his eyes off the road.

 

“I know you found the records, Emma.” His voice was so low she almost thought she was imagining it for a minute. “You know as well as I do that we’re not going to the cops.” The car hummed into gear as 

 

he slowly pushed down on the gas pedal.

 

For a moment Emma’s eyes went out of focus, the world blurring around her. She could feel the car accelerating. Ahead of the car she caught sight of Nisha’s house, and Ethan’s next to it—but they weren’t 

 

slowing down. He was heading straight for the desert.

 

She didn’t think. She groped along the car door, her fingers finally landing on the lock, and wrenched the door open before he could react. Bracing herself, tucking her head against her chin and rolling up 

 

into a ball, she jumped out of the moving car.

 

The impact knocked her teeth against one another, the vibrations resonating through her skull. Gravel and asphalt tore at her skin as she rolled toward the ditch. For a moment she couldn’t breathe, her lungs 

 

flat in her chest. She heard the car’s wheels screech to a halt, yards away. There was no time. She scrambled to her feet, gulping for air. Then she started to run, blindly, desperately.

 

Ethan had circled the block—she would have sensed it if she hadn’t been so terrified. Now his house loomed in front of her. Next door the Banerjee house was dark and silent—but farther down the block there 

 

were lights in the windows. Strangers—but her only hope. She put on a burst of speed, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Help! Help!”

 

With a snarl of the engine, Ethan’s car cut across her path, between her and the houses she’d been running for. She stumbled, bouncing against the passenger-side door before catching her balance. The car 

 

idled in front of her, and she could just make out his face, tense and focused. He was inches away—if he wanted, he could jump out and grab her in a heartbeat.

 

She had no choice.

 

She bolted away from him—straight toward Sabino Canyon, with Ethan on her heels.

 

Just as I had the night he killed me.

 

 

 

 

 

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