okay?” Emma took the cup gratefully. The night before, she’d set up a three-way video-chat with Charlotte and Madeline to tell them everything that had happened. She hadn’t wanted to have to explain more than once. By then they’d seen the news—Madeline couldn’t stop saying that it was “so weird,” and Charlotte had seemed almost hurt that “Sutton” hadn’t told them about her twin. But to their credit, both girls had seemed more worried about her than anything else.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Madeline barked at a short boy in a flannel shirt who seemed to be lingering a few feet away, listening. He jumped and scuttled off, looking terrified. She sighed, running her hand over her sleek, jet-black hair.
Emma smiled her thanks. “I can’t believe these people.”
“I can’t believe how calm you are,” Charlotte said, eyeing Emma. “I’d be a mess.”
“Well, my sister’s a great actress,” Laurel said, looking steadily at Emma as she spoke.
Emma squirmed under her friends’ stares. She adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “Well, I’m not as calm as I look. In fact, I need some air. I’m going to step out, okay?” And before they could say anything in reply, she hurried out the glass door into the courtyard. She took a deep, grateful breath. Soon she would have to go back in there, enter another classroom, and deal with more questions and stares and snide whispers, but for this one moment she could just be.
The courtyard was deeply shadowed, the morning sun still too low to touch the corners of the little square. She was alone—everyone else was on their way to class. A handful of acacia trees in terra-cotta planters dotted the area. She took a step toward the shade-dappled benches.
Then a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. She shrieked, instinctively stepping back, but the hand clenched tighter around her. And then she saw who it was.
Thayer.
Dark shadows hung under his eyes, which shone with a manic gleam. He stood looking down at her, still holding her arm in a tight grip, and Emma was suddenly and painfully aware how much taller and stronger he was.
“You need to tell me the truth,” he hissed. “Now.”
Emma looked around frantically, but no one saw them. The bell for class rang inside.
“Let go of me, Thayer,” she said sternly.
Thayer’s eyes narrowed, but he dropped her arm suddenly, as though she’d been on fire. “I know you’re not Sutton,” he said. He took a deep, ragged breath, running his hands through his hair like a man possessed. “You’re the twin, aren’t you? You switched places with her. I don’t know why or how. But I knew you weren’t her. I’ve known it since the first time I saw you.”
Thayer. Part of me wanted Emma to reach out and touch him, so that I could feel him, if only for a second.
But she just flipped her hair and stared at him coolly, doing her best to mask her racing heart. “Thayer, you’re being crazy. I never even met Emma.”
At that, Thayer let out a cry—something between a snarl and a scream—and grabbed the front of Emma’s shirt, yanking her forward. The muscles in his neck were rigid. “Tell me the truth,” he growled, his breath hot on her face. Emma whimpered, trying to pull out of his grip, but he wouldn’t let go. “Don’t lie to me! What did you do to her?”
“Thayer, stop it!” I yelled uselessly. “She’s trying to help me.” But I was powerless—powerless to talk to him, powerless to soothe him. I could only stand and watch.
Tears welled up in Emma’s eyes. For a moment, Thayer’s face was a grotesque mask, twisted in rage, but when he saw that she was crying, something in his expression shifted. He let go of her shirt so abruptly she stumbled. Then he was pacing back and forth in a short, tight course, like a panther searching for its prey.
Emma hugged herself, trembling uncontrollably, and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Thayer’s hands were clenched into fists, and every movement he made seemed tense with barely controlled power. But when he stopped and turned back to her, the anger had melted away, leaving nothing but anguish.
“Please,” he whispered. He took a step forward, but stopped when he saw her flinch. “I just need to know. Is she—” He choked on the word. “Is she dead?”
Thayer’s hazel eyes searched her face with desperate longing, moving over her features, trying to find the girl he loved inside