Laurel stuck her chin up haughtily. “Then it’s a good thing Thayer and I were there, since you were taking your sweet time.”
Quinlan rolled his eyes. “Please don’t turn your little gang into a pack of vigilantes, Miss Mercer. That’s the last thing I need.” He turned back to Emma. “Of course, the investigation is ongoing. But
between what happened tonight, and what I’ve seen of his medical records, we have probable cause to hold him. I’ve got a CSI team on their way to his house now, and another one at the storage facility.
Ethan’s a smart kid—I’m guessing he’ll have done a good job hiding the evidence. But if it’s there, we’ll find it. We always do.”
Emma nodded, feeling as if she were miles away from the interrogation chamber, miles away from Quinlan and Laurel and Thayer. She felt hollow to the core. Ethan had been lying to her all along. She’d loved
him, and the whole time, he’d just lied and lied.
But it was over. Ethan had been caught, and it was only a matter of time before the cops found all the evidence they needed to charge him. So I couldn’t help wondering—why was I still here? I hadn’t been
sure what to expect, but I’d always pictured something happening right about now. Pearly gates, or a long tunnel with a bright light at the end, or a cosmic escalator leading to some heavenly mall where my
halo would double as a platinum card. But I was still here, still my sister’s silent shadow. Would I be here forever, haunting her until she died and joined me in the afterlife?
The door flew open, and Mrs. Mercer rushed in, followed by her husband. They’d obviously dressed in a hurry—Mr. Mercer still had on the ratty UC Davis T-shirt he often wore to bed, and Mrs. Mercer had
pulled on sweatpants and a wine-stained blouse that looked like it’d been at the top of a laundry hamper. Thayer and Laurel both stood to meet them. Emma’s grandmother embraced Laurel tightly, her lips an
anxious line in her face. Mr. Mercer, meanwhile, grabbed Thayer in a bear hug. Thayer looked embarrassed, but he patted Mr. Mercer on the back and smiled weakly.
Emma watched them from the sofa, her heart aching. For the first time, she thought she fully understood how they’d felt after finding out who she really was. She had done to them exactly what Ethan had done
to her—she’d pretended to be someone she wasn’t. She couldn’t blame them for wanting her out of their lives.
But then Mr. Mercer let go of Thayer, his eyes shining as he sat beside Emma, and pulled her into an embrace.
For just a moment she went stiff in his arms. Then her body started to tremble, and she put her arms around his neck. Tears prickled her eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything,” she murmured, her voice muffled
against his shoulder.
“I know,” he whispered, rocking her back and forth. “It’s going to be okay.”
Emma didn’t know if anything would ever be okay again. Having Mr. Mercer’s shoulder to cry on was a comfort she didn’t deserve, yet she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.
That was the thing about family. They were a comfort none of us deserved. I thought about the last angry words I’d said to my father, and the constant bickering with my mom while I was still alive. But they
loved me anyway, no matter what I’d done.
Finally Mrs. Mercer settled on the couch next to Emma, her hands twisting around each other nervously. She gave Emma a lingering, uncertain look, then took her hand. Her blue eyes were serious and piercing.
“It’s not fair that you’ve been facing all of this alone,” she said softly. “I’m still struggling to understand it all . . . but I know you must have been terrified this whole time.”
Emma nodded, tears prickling her eyes again. “I wanted to tell you so badly.”
Mrs. Mercer squeezed her hand. “There’s a lot we’ll have to get used to. Do you think you can give us time to work through all these feelings?”
Emma frowned up at her. “Time?”
“We lost two daughters,” Mr. Mercer said, his voice breaking. “We don’t want to lose another.”
“We’d like it if you’d come stay with us. At least for the time being,” Mrs. Mercer said. “I know you’re eighteen, and maybe after all this you’re ready to move on. But we’d like a chance to get to
know you, Emma. As yourself.”
Emma opened her mouth to reply, but words refused to form. She glanced at Mr. Mercer, and he nodded encouragingly. Quinlan sat quietly in an armchair, as poker-faced as ever, but she thought she could see a
twinge of sympathy in the corner of his mouth.
“Of course she’s coming to stay with us,” Laurel said briskly. “I didn’t just save her ass in the middle of the woods so she could run off again.” She looked steadily at Emma.
Emma stared around the room at her family, all of them waiting for her answer. They may not have forgiven her yet—but they wanted to try. And if they could do it, maybe she could forgive herself.