The Lying Game Complete Collection - Sara Shepard Page 0,220

and neat letters formed short verses, like a poem. Suddenly, the guilt flooded back. The prank. Laurel had asked her to steal his work. She winced, then pulled away from him.

“I need to tell you something else,” she said. “Something you’re not going to like.”

Ethan cocked his head. “Of course. You can tell me anything.”

Emma stared at Ethan’s hands entwined with hers, hating what she had to do next. But she had to warn him. She took a deep breath. “Sutton’s friends are planning this prank on you. It has to do with your poetry reading.”

Ethan shrank back. “What?”

“I tried to stop them. But they really—”

Ethan waved his hands, cutting her off. He blinked at her hard, as though Emma had just hit him over the head with a shovel. “How long have you known about this?”

Emma lowered her eyes. “Um, a few days,” she said in a small voice.

“A few days?”

“I’m sorry!” Emma cried. “I tried to stop it! It wasn’t my idea!”

Slowly, Ethan’s expression turned from hurt to disappointment to disgust. “I think you should go,” he said numbly.

“Ethan, I—” Emma tried to reach for his hand, but he was already making his way to the door. “Ethan!” she called after him, running into the hall. They were almost to the foyer when she caught his arm and swung him around. “Please! You told me we could be honest about everything! And I thought—”

“You thought wrong,” Ethan interrupted, wrenching his arm away. “You could have called this off instantly. They think you’re the all-powerful Sutton Mercer. One word from you and the prank’s off. Why didn’t you do that? Is it because you don’t want them to know about me? Are you”—his voice caught, and he cleared his throat roughly—“ashamed of me?”

“Of course not!” Emma cried, but maybe Ethan had a point. Why hadn’t she tried harder to nip it in the bud? How had she let it get so out of control?

Ethan’s hand turned the doorknob. “Just go, okay? Don’t bother talking to me until you remember who you are—Emma Paxton, the nice twin.”

“Ethan!” Emma cried, but he’d already pushed her outside and slammed the door in her face. It was raining harder now, and the drops mixed with the tears that streamed down her cheeks. It felt like she’d just lost the only good thing she had in the world. She cupped her hands against the glass of the side window and stared into the house, watching as Ethan stormed back down the hall, knocking over a stack of books on the living room table as he went.

It was a scene I hated to watch. Once again, I cursed the Lying Game. If my friends and I hadn’t started that stupid club, Emma wouldn’t be heartbroken right now. Her one and only ally wouldn’t hate her.

Emma rang the doorbell a few times, but Ethan didn’t answer. She texted him to please talk to her, but he didn’t reply. After a while, there was no use in lingering—Ethan had made his feelings clear. She trudged across the front lawn, instantly getting soaked, wondering how she was going to get back to the Mercers. As she was pulling out Sutton’s cell phone to call the cab service again, the phone lit up in her hands. Emma frowned. The number was from the Tucson police station. A horrible thought came to her: What if the cops were calling about Thayer? What if he was being set free?

“Uh, hello?” Emma yelled over the rainstorm, trying to quell the nerves in her voice.

Detective Quinlan’s voice boomed on the other end. “Evening, Miss Mercer. We got the blood results back from your car.”

Emma tensed. “W-what are they?” She braced herself, sure he was going to say the blood was Sutton’s.

“The blood is a perfect match for Thayer Vega,” Quinlan’s low voice pronounced.

Emma stopped short in the middle of the street, certain she’d heard him wrong. “Thayer?”

“That’s right,” Quinlan said. “Any idea how it got there? Mr. Vega certainly isn’t talking.”

“I …” Emma trailed off, not having a single thing to say. She paused next to a spindly mesquite tree, trying to catch her breath. She felt completely blindsided.

“Sutton?” Quinlan prompted. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

Emma huddled under the tree, not that it provided much shelter from the storm. There was so much she needed to tell him. Did she dare? Could she somehow convince him this time that she was Sutton’s twin, but that she hadn’t wanted to steal