A Time for Us - By Amy Knupp Page 0,17

walls, and Rachel remembered the time they’d been arguing about who knew what and Noelle had informed her the door was off-limits since it was in her part of the room. Rachel had just as stubbornly declared the single window to be her property and had made a point of lowering the blinds and closing the windows to lock out the incessant island breeze—exactly the opposite of the way her sister had liked it. The standoff had lasted until Rachel had needed to go to the bathroom and had threatened to pee just over the line on Noelle’s side. And she would have, too, because all was fair and reasonable when it came to an argument between the twins. And yet, neither one of them had ever petitioned to move to the extra bedroom that had always served as their mother’s home office because, when you got down to it, in spite of all their differences, they were a unit. They were “the twins.”

Rachel fought to swallow, then she slowly backed out of the room and gently closed the door.

She’d been right about one thing—her sister was not in the room. But that victory was hollow, because what was there was something even harder to face...it was the leftovers of a life that should still be going strong. A freeze-frame view into Noelle’s existence on that awful day. Rachel wondered if her sister would have left things differently had she known it would be the last time she was walking out of the room. Would she have straightened her shoes? Made her bed? Lined up the makeup neatly?

Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, Rachel struggled against the tsunami-force wall of emotions trying to level her. She shook her head and repeated to herself that she wasn’t letting it in. Not today. Not for as long as she could hold it at bay.

When she was able to breathe evenly, without the telltale shakiness, she walked away, down the stairs, out the back door. Though she was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, she did a shallow dive into the family pool, which was seldom used but painstakingly maintained by a weekly pool boy, and swam underwater to the opposite end. When she surfaced, her back to the house, she hitched her elbows on the side of the pool and forced her mind back into the present moment.

Opening that door and peering into the bedroom from a distance was all Rachel could handle for now. That was going to have to be enough for today.

* * *

IF RACHEL HAD been the one to die and Noelle had lived instead, Noelle would have handled things so much differently. So much better. Noelle would never have failed her sister so completely.

Those were the words Rachel repeated to herself as she stood on the seashell welcome mat outside Cale and Mariah’s apartment waiting for someone to open the door.

There were multiple voices from within, becoming louder, and then the knob turned. Mariah Jackson, a willowy redhead whom Rachel had met only a couple of times before, looked momentarily shocked at the sight of Rachel. She caught herself quickly, though, and smiled. “Hi, Rachel.”

There was no mistaking the surprise in her voice.

Before Rachel could respond with anything besides a hello, Cale came barreling into the entryway.

“Hey, Rachel. What are you doing here?”

“She’s here for the meeting, you twit,” Mariah said.

“Did I get the time wrong?” Rachel asked in a rush of anxiety.

“No, no, come on in. Eddie, our third...fourth member, is in the other room. We just got started. It’s good to see you. Other than the meeting, it’s been a long time....”

Since the funeral, Rachel silently filled in.

“I thought you had to work today,” Cale said as the three of them walked through the living room into the open dining area.

“I thought I did, too, but apparently the schedule god is determined that I stick with the slowest, most mind-numbing shifts. He nixed the extra shift and gave me a lecture about overdoing it. I suspect my brother paid him to do it.”

“Really?” Mariah said, her voice sounding scandalized.

“I doubt it, but I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Isn’t brotherly love just...fabulous?” Mariah said drily. “Rachel, this is Eddie Vandermeyer, our fearless leader and the only one of the three of us who really has any clue about publicity. Eddie, Rachel is—”

“Noelle’s sister,” he said as he stood and shook her hand. “Honored to meet you, Rachel.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rachel said, a little flustered over his use