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.
31
ENDGAME
Emma ran blindly, hurtling into the depths of the canyon. Branches clawed at her ankles and whipped across her face. Ethan’s car door slammed somewhere behind her, but she didn’t turn to look. Adrenaline soared through her blood, and she flew into the trees beyond the parking lot. A crow screamed from the top of a boulder, warning the forest of her coming.
The trail was steep, and her sneakers knocked dirt loose as she climbed. Behind her she could hear Ethan scrambling for purchase, gaining on her. She whimpered, desperation coursing through her. It was like a nightmare—except in a nightmare, you could wake up.
The deeper she got into the canyon, the stronger I could feel its hold on me—the awful, magnetic pull that drew me there. Out here the world seemed sharper and more terrifying. But out here I also felt stronger, the senses that I shared with Emma somehow clearer. This was where my body had been broken. And now my sister was running toward the same fate. “Emma, you have to go back!” I screamed. “You have to get out of here!”
Tucson opened out below as she reached the overlook. Far away she could hear the rush of traffic, the thud of someone’s car stereo. She risked a glance behind her and saw Ethan’s form steadily following her. A strangled sob twisted her lungs, and she bolted again, trying to pick up speed.
Her foot caught on a half-buried root on the trail. For a moment she kept her balance, her legs dancing beneath her. But then Ethan was on top of her, tackling her to the ground. Her head bounced against a rock, and her eyes filled with stars.
When her vision cleared, she was gazing up at Ethan. He knelt over her, his eyes burning, his lips drawn back in a tight grimace. Then she felt metal against her neck, and looked down to see the edge of a knife in his hand.
The world tilted around me, and for a moment I couldn’t tell where my memory ended and Emma’s present began. They were one and the same. And now she was going to die . . . just the way I had.
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. His hand dug into her shoulder where he pressed her down in the dirt. She wondered if this was how it happened with Sutton, if he’d chased her, pinned her, and thrown her off the cliff. A sob shuddered through her throat.
Ethan frowned and gritted his teeth. “I did everything, everything, for you. God, Emma!” The muscles in his neck tightened as he spat the words out. “I warned you so many times to stop digging. And you wouldn’t. It’s like some kind of sick compulsion with you, isn’t it? Why couldn’t you just be happy with the life I gave you? Why did you have to ruin everything?”
Emma stared pleadingly up at him. At the back of her mind she wondered fleetingly if Laurel was looking for her even now—but Laurel thought she was at the Banerjees’. No one was coming to help her.
“Why did you kill my sister?” she asked, desperate to keep him talking, to buy any time she could. “Was it because of the science fair prank?” The Lying Game girls had done something to Ethan in eighth grade that had cost him a scholarship. Was killing Sutton some kind of long-delayed revenge?
Ethan’s derisive snort echoed around the canyon. Nearby some small animal scrabbled away through the brush.
“That? That was years ago. That doesn’t matter to me anymore.”
“What, then?”
For a second his expression shifted. His eyes softened, and he looked sad, regretful even. He shook his head. “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he said softly.
“Liar!” I shrieked, an electric rage spiking through me. Emma’s body tensed beneath his, and she closed her eyes, as if trying to hear something far away. I’d been able to communicate with her once before, the night that she met Becky out here. Could I do it again?
Slowly, Ethan pulled the blade away from her throat and sat back, though he kept the knife at his side. Emma could see it clearly now—a leather-handled hunting knife with a long, tapered blade, the moon catching on the polished steel. She tried not to stare at it.
“I loved her,” he said shortly, his lips curling with bitterness. “I came out here to tell her that. I thought I could make her see that we were meant to be together.”
A fresh wave of anguish crashed over Emma. Confusion and betrayal whirled through her head. He’d loved Sutton? Was that all he’d ever seen in Emma? Had he only wanted her as a substitute for the sister he couldn’t have?
Ethan stared down at Emma, but something in his eyes was far away and vague. For a moment she thought about taking her chance, trying to wrench free of him and run, but the sight of the knife kept her still. “I’d been in love with her for years, even though she treated me like garbage. I knew she wasn’t ready yet, that I had to be patient. Then I came out here that night, after everyone else had left her. After everyone had hurt her and lied to her and abandoned her.” His fingers curled into her shoulder as he spoke, digging painfully into her skin. “I thought for sure she’d see that I was the only one who’d been there for her all along. But all she wanted was Thayer Vega.”
I thought about the shapeless form behind the wheel of my car, bearing down on Thayer. I heard the sound of bone cracking once again.
“So you ran him over?” Emma whispered.
Ethan’s eyes flashed. “I wish I’d killed him. I’ve always hated that guy. I hated him when Sutton liked him, and I hated him when you did. He didn’t deserve to be in her life. I had to show her that.”
Tears ran down Emma’s face, leaving hot salty trails on her skin. “So you and me—it was always about Sutton. It’s just because I look like her.”
“Emma, no!” he breathed, his eyes suddenly soft. “You have to believe me.” He seemed lost for words for a moment, his shoulders knotted in agitation. Then he took a deep breath. The pressure of his hand on her shoulder disappeared. Slowly he helped her sit up, crouching by her side, but the knife still gleamed dangerously in his hand.
Emma’s eyes darted frantically around. The light filtered down through the trees, making filigree patterns over the clearing. Beyond the brush the lights of the city glittered. A boulder jutted into the middle of the trail, and beyond it the path looked steeper than ever. There was no escape. Her only hope was to keep him talking.
A jolt of recognition ran through me. I knew that boulder. This was where Garrett and I had argued. The clearing showed signs of recent disturbance—the cops who had canvassed the area for clues to my death had left footprints and broken branches in their wake—but there was no sign that anyone was nearby at this hour. A few more yards up the path, the tree line broke to reveal the ravine, opening up beyond.
Ethan took her hand in his free one, a shattered look on his face. “I never meant to fall in love with you,” he whispered. “I didn’t know there was someone out there who could make me feel this way.”
He looked so earnest, so hurt, that despite everything, a reluctant pang shot through her heart. Part of her wanted so badly to believe him—wanted to forget everything she’d just learned and go back to ignorantly, stupidly loving Ethan. If there was a way to undo what she’d learned, Emma might have done it. Because she had loved him, more than she’d ever loved anyone. And that was the most painful part.
But then she thought of everything he had done to her over the past three months. The light crashing next to her, the threatening notes, the locket tight around her neck as he strangled her. He’d made sure she felt scared and alone, that she had no one to turn to except him. He’d forced her to stay quiet, to lose her own identity, and to alienate the only family she had in this world. That wasn’t what you did to someone you loved.
She looked down at his hand in hers, her skin crawling with aversion. But she didn’t dare pull away. A vague glimmer of hope sparked at the back of her mind. Maybe if she seemed understanding—even loving—then he wouldn’t kill her. At least not yet.
“So, all those pictures of me we found in the storage unit—you took those?” she asked.
He nodded. “At first I was trying to find your mom. I knew Sutton was adopted. I still remember when she had to read her family tree report in ninth grade, how upset she got.” His gaze went distant again as he stared off into his memories. “She was so beautiful that day—she was one of those girls who looked even prettier when she cried.”
Emma suppressed a shudder. “So you started looking for her birth mom.”
“Yeah. I started investigating the Mercers and almost right away realized Becky must have been their daughter. I hacked the hospital records—and that was when I realized there were two of you.”
“Hospital records are really hard to get,” Emma said. She tried to sound impressed, maybe even a little admiring, but inside was nothing but cold, metallic terror.
He warmed to her tone easily, though—as if he fed on her approval. His eyes brightened as he spoke.
“It was pretty easy from there. I found all your information online. I made a few trips to Vegas to check you out, make sure I had the right girl. I even rode the roller coaster one day. I walked right up to you and bought a ticket.”
Emma stared at him, trying to conjure up an image of him at her kiosk. It seemed impossible that she wouldn’t have noticed him—for months now she’d been staring at him every day, preoccupied by how cute he was, obsessed with the curve of his lips, the curls in his hair. But then, all that time, she hadn’t seen him for what he really was—a murderer.
“As soon as I realized how crazy Becky was, I knew she wasn’t going to be the romantic present I’d hoped her to be.” He chuckled, then glanced at her and sobered. “But you? You were perfect. I couldn’t wait to tell Sutton all about you. You were the proof of how much I loved her—more than Thayer or Garrett or anyone else. None of them could give her a sister.” He sighed. “She would’ve been so excited to know I could lead her to you, if she’d just listened to me. But things didn’t go right, and I had to use you a different way.”
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