“Coward.”
“No.” She grinned at me. “Not a coward. Shut your eyes again so I can finish the other side.”
I did, and she continued thoughtfully, “I’m giving people the space to be themselves. When is the last time you asked someone about their makeup? I mean, if you noticed something strange.”
“I’ve never noticed something strange, but if I did, I would tell them.”
Lisa was quiet for a few seconds, and then asked, “Don’t you think that’s because you never notice people?”
“What? That’s not true.”
“It is true. You never recognize people, even if you’ve met them a hundred times.”
“You suffer from gross exaggeration syndrome.”
She chuckled. “Fine. Maybe not a hundred times. But I’ve introduced you to people more than once and you never recognize them the next time you meet them.”
“Like who?”
“Like my friend from boarding school who helped me play that prank on you during your graduation.”
A stunned jolt had me reaching out blindly, my fingers connecting with her wrist and moving her hand away so I could open my eyes. “Wait, what?”
“Yeah. Evelyn? From the newspaper? You’d met her three times before she called you to confirm the “details” of the interview. She was so worried you’d recognize her voice and figure it out, but you didn’t.”
I stared at Lisa, incredulous. “So, you knew her? And she was in on it? The whole time?”
“Of course. What did you think? That I actually pretended to be you and gave an interview to your university paper saying those crazy things?” Lisa smirked, dabbing her brush in the eyeshadow palette again.
But when I said nothing, she glanced at me. She blinked, flinching back, comprehension sharpening her stare. “Oh my God, you did. That’s what you thought.”
“It’s not important.” I twisted my lips to the side.
“Like hell it’s not.” Lisa snapped shut the eyeshadow palette, tossed it to the black case, and placed her hands on her hips, her gaze darting over me. “How could you think I would do that? That would’ve been hugely damaging to your reputation, made you look like a fool.”
I swallowed, but said nothing, sorting through all the assumptions I’d made about my sister.
“Mona, you—” She huffed, glanced over my head, then shook hers.