THE CONFRONTATION
I can’t help it, I scream, but a hand clamps over my mouth so it comes out as a muffled meep.
“Shut up! Do you want everyone to hear you?”
Panic shoots through my body, and my heart starts to thud. I thought it would be Becca on the other side of the door, laughing, joking, jolly, and happy again.
But this is not Becca.
I know this voice. It isn’t one I ever wanted to hear again. I look around wildly, how can I get away? How can I escape?
“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth. If you scream, if you call out...”
Something hard and sharp touches my neck. Christ, she has a knife. She’s insane, this I’ve always known, but she has a bloody knife.
“I’m not insane, you cow, and you know it. How dare you say such a thing?”
Oh, my God, I said it aloud.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please, don’t hurt me.”
The pressure on my neck subsides. She shoves me away. I stumble between the graves. My brain says run but my feet are planted as if the roots surrounding the graves have grown over my bones, as well. I can no sooner run than fly.
“What...what are you doing here?”
“What do you think? Cleaning up your messes. My God, you are a disaster. Every time I turn around, you are practically telling everyone our story.”
“I haven’t said a word. I swear it.”
“You don’t need to lie anymore. This little experiment is over. I need the money.”
“What money?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, sister.”
She drops the word so casually, so caustically, that I close my eyes.
She knows. Oh, God, she knows.
“How did you find out?”
“The letter Gertrude sent to wreck our lives. The solicitors were sniffing around the flat in Oxford. Kevin said he was your boyfriend and they asked him to give you a letter. He gave it to me. It spelled everything out. Everything that matters, at least. Did you know we were sisters?”
How do I even answer this? I must have shock written all across my face because she smiles meanly and continues, thankfully, before I say anything.
“Well, we are. Damien was your father, too. Surprise!”
“I don’t know what to say.” This is the truth. I am at a loss for words. I am bruised and burning and the air around me coruscates. I have to fight down the nausea.
Yes, I know she is my sister. Of course, I do. And here I was worried about Becca. Becca is a gnat compared to Ashlyn.
She is responsible for all of this. I should have known. I should have seen this coming. I am so stupid.
“Half, Lex. You get half. And I don’t think that’s exactly fair.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Stop playing dumb. I know they told you Daddy dearest left half the estate to you. I saw Nickerson here today.”
She finally steps out from behind me, and I bite back my gasp of surprise.
Ashlyn looks like she’s been living in the woods. Her hair is matted and dirty, her clothes covered in leaves and cobwebs. She throws a bag at me. I know what’s in it. The vestiges of a life. An ID card, a passport. A bank card. The key to a flat.
“I need my life back, Ash.” This is said with such derision I cringe. Sod it all, this was her idea in the first place, for me to use the name Ash Carlisle.
Get it together, get it together.
“What are you saying? You want me to walk away and you’re going to stroll into Goode and pretend to be me?” I ask, horrified.
“Oh, but who is pretending to be whom, darling sister? No, give me what I want and you can stay at this stupid little school. I’ll even pay for it.”
“You’ll pay for it?”
She laughs, uproariously. There was a time when that laugh could set my heart alight, the joy in it, the freedom, the adventure. But now, I see it for what it is. A trap.
“A reward. You’ve done such a good job of being me. You’ll claim your filthy prize, hand it over to me. I’ll just say thank you and take the money.”
“What money?”
“What is wrong with you? Are you high? Have you started down Mummy’s path at last? The money you inherit from the estate, what else?”
“But there’s no way. If I admit who I am now, they’ll kick me out. The Honor Code—”
“Do you think I care about your stupid little school? This little world you’re creating? I don’t. You need to sign the paperwork and take possession of Daddy’s cash, and I will relieve you of the funds and be off. No reason to wait until I’m twenty-five if we can do it now.”
“You must be joking. I can’t just walk away from this. That will blow up my life.”
Her eyes are strangely lit as if there’s a fire inside her. “Oh, are you settling in? Becoming one of them? Don’t you realize you’ll never be one of them? You’ll always just be the daughter of a junkie, a chip shop worker. You have no future, you never did. I was willing to give you a chance to earn your own way, to get the education you were dreaming about. But since you managed to get yourself in Daddy’s will, we might as well do this now. Sign the paperwork and hand over the cash.”
“But if I sign the paperwork, they’ll know who I really am.”
“Sign it, or I’ll walk into the school and tell them you’ve been keeping me captive so you could take my place and steal my money. Who do you think they’ll believe? The impostor? Or the rightful student? Look at me. It will take nothing to convince them you’ve been keeping me hostage.”
God, she is the most devious person I have ever known. Was this her plan for leverage all along? Think. Think.
I stand up straight. I’m taller than her, and I can look down, intimidate.
“I don’t care for your threats, Ashlyn. Do you honestly believe I don’t have proof you wanted me to do this? Do you think I didn’t protect myself? You wouldn’t dare blow me up. Yes, I might get kicked out of the school, but if you do that, I will make sure you get put in jail. No money will save you from a double murder charge. I know what you did. I know how you did it. You won’t be able to blame their deaths on me. Fat lot of good Daddy’s money will do you then, shriveled up behind bars, only allowed to see sunlight an hour a day. You’ll go mad in there. Madder than you already are.”
I’ve hit a nerve. Her face twists in anger, and she lands a stunning blow to my cheek before I have a chance to pull away. The punch knocks me to the ground. The pain is incredible, mushroom clouding until I feel it peak and begin to throb. It’s almost as sore as the burn on my rib cage.
But my anger dissipates. This is what she’s gone through her whole life. She was on the receiving end of our father’s rages. How many black eyes did I minister to? How many times had she come to me with a bloodied nose or a missing tooth? He made her into this monster, just like he made me into a liar. We are a pair.
I roll over and get up on my knees. Her eyes are on fire now, the anger simmering, flames ready to leap.
“I’m sorry,” I say, in the most placating tone I have. “You’re right. I’ll get you the money. You just have to give me a few days to figure out how to make this all work. I think I already have an idea. Wouldn’t it be easier for you to just come forward as the illegitimate daughter? They’ve already taken my DNA swab. You go to the lawyers and do yours, I’ll hack into the database and switch them. Easy. Then you’ll receive the money, and I can stay here, at school. No one needs to know anything more.”
She looks at me like I’m the insane one. “How could you want to stay here? They treat you terribly. That girl, Becca, she isn’t your friend. She’s going to hurt you, hurt you worse than you could ever imagine.”
Oh, what little you know, sister. She’s already torn me apart.
“No, she’s not. It’s a game. I’ve been tapped for a secret society, that’s all. It’s all in good fun.”
“You can’t possibly believe that.”
Becca is the least of my worries.
But Ashlyn’s sagging now—the beaten, cowed, unloved girl is back. These sparks of fury that make her lose her mind are frightening, yes, but they’re usually over as quickly as they start. It’s like she’s possessed. I’ve seen the worst her anger can do, lying on the floor of the parlor, pale, waxy, lifeless.
And on the headstone that sits atop a tiny coffin, buried on the estate.
And the blood on the parlor floor, leaking from Sylvia’s body.
And in my flat, the guileless, endless sleep of my mum, Gertrude, the needle still dangling from the crook of her elbow. I’ll never know if she did it on her own or if Ashlyn helped her along to make my part of the plan easier to stomach. I was too afraid to ask, too desperate to get out.
Ashlyn will do anything when her demon rises. I need to keep that part of her at bay for as long as possible until I figure out what to do.
She wasn’t supposed to come here, ever. She was supposed to be in Tahiti, or Bora Bora, wherever she decided to go.
Though it sounds like she’s been parked in Oxford, in my old flat, listening to the gossips and getting high with Kevin. Waiting for me to get the degrees in her name so she can inherit the estate and drown herself in whatever marsh she’s picked. What a fucking idiot. I got her out. I handed her a new life, one she begged for. And I got hers in return, the one she hated.
It was a fair trade.
Daddy dearest wasn’t supposed to name me an heir. When Nickerson told me about my phantom sister, so apologetic, so worried, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. All of the plans, all of the machinations, the hacks, the identity theft, being an impostor—none of it was necessary. If I’d waited, had a little faith, I would have had enough money to pay for any education I could desire.
Mum always told me to watch out for a woman scorned. She said Sylvia would kill me if she ever found out.
Yes, Mum told me about their affair. It’s why she ended up taking pills, to forget the dynamic, exciting Damien Carr when he threw her over and married simpering Sylvia.
Damien killed my mother. No one else.
But little did she know it was Ashlyn who was the real danger, all along.
Think. Think!
None of the plans I’ve been working include the real Ashlyn ever showing up in Marchburg. Now that she’s here and dancing on the edge, I have to reboot everything. Everything.
“You have to give me some time. I can work this, but it’s going to be tricky.”
The fever light gleams in her eyes. “You have twenty-four hours. I need to get out of this shit town. I don’t know how you can stand it.”
“You have to give me more than a day. I have to—”
She has a hand ripping my hair back and the knife at my throat so fast I don’t even have time to blink.
“Listen to me, you stupid, hapless twat. Twenty-four hours, or I will blow up your entire world and dance on the ashes. You’ll have the distraction you need.”
She lets me go and disappears into the forest, leaving me alone with the graves and trembling hands. I sink to my knees, the past few months parading through my brain. I should have known better.
What am I going to do?
I’m going to run.