Madeline’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, shopping! Want to go tomorrow when you guys are done with practice?”
Everyone nodded. Charlotte turned to Emma. “I guess we’ll fill Laurel in at practice.”
Madeline made a face. “I don’t know if we should include her—she seems to be a little too busy hanging out with my brother to help us plan. I think someone might need her Lying Game privileges revoked.”
“That might be a tad dramatic, Mads,” Charlotte said in a soothing tone. She shifted her weight. “Right, Sutton?”
Emma nodded quickly. Now that Laurel wasn’t a suspect, she saw the situation for what it was: a girl who had a massive crush on her hot best friend. Laurel wanted to spend as much time as possible with Thayer in order to win him over—or maybe to keep him away from her older sister.
Madeline shrugged, then spun on her heel and marched in the opposite direction. Lili and Gabby followed, still texting. Charlotte touched Emma’s arm and steered her down the hall the other way. “Is something bothering you?” she asked softly.
Emma took out her hair tie and let her long hair spill over her shoulders. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little stressed out lately, I guess.” Even if she couldn’t tell Charlotte what was really wrong, it felt good to admit that she was struggling.
“Can I ask you something?” Charlotte said as they skirted around a bunch of girls looking at something on their phones. Emma overheard the words invite and secret dance. “You weren’t really sick with food poisoning at your dad’s party, were you?”
Emma’s head shot up. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
“Someone said they saw you outside with Thayer,” Charlotte said out of the corner of her mouth.
Heat rose to Emma’s cheeks as she started up the stairs. “They said you were holding hands,” Charlotte went on. “And that you looked upset.”
Emma glanced over her shoulder. “Who said that?”
Charlotte stopped on the landing, letting kids pass by. She lowered her eyes. “Actually, it was me—I saw you. But I’m worried. Is everything okay? What were you guys talking about?”
Emma glanced at Charlotte. For just a split second, she considered spilling everything. But how? Actually, Char, I’m not really Sutton, but her twin. And I think her dad killed her, and I think he’s forcing me to be her until he gets around to killing me, too. And, oh yeah, I think he hit Thayer with Sutton’s car. No biggie.
“We were just talking about old times,” she said stiffly.
“Are you thinking about getting back together? What about Ethan?”
“Ethan and I are fine,” Emma said. “Like I said, we were just discussing something that happened a long time ago. It’s not a big deal, I swear. Stop worrying, okay?”
“You just haven’t been acting like yourself,” Charlotte protested. “It’s like aliens have come down and swapped out the Sutton I thought I knew with someone else.”
Emma stared at her. It was chilling how close Charlotte had come to the truth. But then she took a deep breath, wrapped her arms around Charlotte’s shoulders, and gave her a big hug. “I assure you, I haven’t been abducted by aliens,” she said. “Now let’s just go to practice and forget about all of this.”
“If you’re sure,” Charlotte said, looking a little more relaxed.
And then they headed out the door, taking a shortcut to the locker rooms. Halfway there, Charlotte stopped and said she forgot her calculus book in her locker—she needed to go back. “I’ll catch up with you,” she said, spinning around.
Emma continued toward the locker room, her head in a fog. Exhaust billowed from the buses. Someone blew a horn on the street. She had to pass a back parking lot to get to the locker rooms, but it was usually quiet this time of day, reserved for teachers and faculty. But today, something caught her eye. Someone was standing just outside a black SUV, staring at her. When she realized who it was, she stopped, her blood running cold.
It was my dad. And he was looking at Emma the same way he’d looked at me the night I died.
22
PLAY ALONG
Pretend you didn’t see him, Emma thought instantly. She put her head down and shuffled toward the locker room, her heart pounding hard. But then she heard a metallic sound of a hand slapping a car door. “Sutton!” Mr. Mercer’s voice called.
Emma stopped and peeked at him. “Oh, hey, Dad!” she said pleasantly, as if just noticing him for the first time.
Mr. Mercer didn’t look amused. He walked around to the other side and opened the passenger door. “Get in.”
Emma’s fingers shook. “Thanks, but I drove here,” she said, holding up her car keys and trying to sound normal. “I can get home on my own. And anyway, I have tennis practice now.”
“Get. In. The. Car,” Mr. Mercer said sternly. Then, seemingly realizing he was in a school parking lot, his lips formed a small smile, probably for the sake of anyone watching. “We need to talk, okay?” he said in a gentler voice.
The whole scene felt chillingly familiar. Don’t do it, Emma, I urged.
Emma didn’t budge from the square of pavement where she stood. She glanced around, hoping—praying—that someone would come around the corner and see this. Amazingly, there was no one. If only she could reach into her pocket and text Charlotte for help, but Mr. Mercer would see. And anyway, what would Charlotte say when she got here?
“Sutton?” Mr. Mercer said warningly.