through hers. She shuddered as the door flew open and braced for Garrett in all his rage, ready to push Mr. Mercer down and stand in front of him, if she had to.
But it wasn’t Garrett. It was a skinny, pointy-chinned man wearing a denim jacket and a shabby brown knit scarf. He wore wire-frame glasses, and he was fiddling with a digital audio recorder as he approached them.
“Ted and Sutton Mercer?” A shameless grin spread across his face. “Care to give me a statement for The Real Deal Magazine?”
Mr. Mercer looked outraged. He straightened himself to his full height and hugged Emma to his side with one arm. “You almost ran us over!”
The reporter’s grin didn’t falter. “Just trying to get your attention. Come on, pops, don’t you want your side of the story to be told?”
Emma’s temper flared. “Not by some hack from a second-rate gossip rag.”
The man laughed out loud. “I’ve already heard it all, sweetheart. Save your insults for the fat girls at school.”
Drake hadn’t stopped barking. Now he gave a low, threatening growl.
“We have no comment to make at this time,” Mr. Mercer said firmly. Emma noticed that he’d given some slack to the leash, and Drake had gotten closer to the reporter. The reporter seemed to have noticed it, too. He held his hands up in the air and backed slowly away.
“It’s your prerogative. But the story’s going to be big, and there’s gonna be a lot of dirt that comes out. I guarantee it.” He leaned slowly down to place a business card on the curb. “If you start to feel like you aren’t being properly represented in the media, give me a call. My number’s on the card.”
The reporter backed into the side of his car, eyeing Drake the whole way. He groped around for the door handle, and then he was off, leaving Emma, Mr. Mercer, and Drake in a cloud of exhaust.
Emma strode over to where the card lay and plucked it up. Then she ripped it into tiny pieces and threw them in the air. Mr. Mercer watched her with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Did you know that was a reporter?” he asked.
“I . . . I suspected,” she stammered.
He sighed, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I wish I could protect you from them, Sutton. They’re going to be all over the place.” He rubbed Drake behind the ears. The dog’s tail whipped wildly back and forth. Then he laughed. “‘Second-rate gossip rag’?”
Emma broke into a sheepish grin. “That’s right. Those reporters are the ones who are going to need protection.” She held up her fists and pretended to box.
I trailed behind my father and sister as they walked back toward home. I wished Dad could protect Emma, too—I wished he could keep all the danger now threatening her at bay. But I knew as well as Emma did that it had to be the other way around. She was the only one who could protect him. It hadn’t been Garrett in the car this time. But sooner or later, he’d make good on his threats. He’d come for our family, and when he did, she had to be ready.
13
SISTER ACT
Since she’d taken Sutton’s place three months earlier, Emma had gotten used to the wide berth given her by most of the students at Hollier High. Sutton was notorious, after all, and no one wanted to get caught in the crossfire of a Lying Game prank. But the following day, when the crowds parted before her and Laurel as they made their way down the hall, it felt different. On either side she could hear barely stifled whispers.
“Did you hear the dead girl was her sister?”
“Her twin sister.”
“Yeah, right. I don’t care what you say, this is some kind of prank. Remember last year, when she told everyone she’d been carjacked?”
Emma kept her breath steady and even as she walked, trying not to let panic overtake her. She had never gotten used to everyone looking at her, and now they weren’t even bothering to hide it. If she ever needed to channel Sutton’s bitchiest attitude, it was now.
She rounded a corner to see Charlotte and Madeline standing by her locker. When they caught sight of her they hurried forward to meet her, both of them looking pale and worried. Charlotte carried two paper coffee cups and tried to hand her one and hug her at the same time.
“There you are,” she murmured, her voice low. “Are you