“Did you know about my pregnancy?”

  The color drained from his face. The backs of his legs bumped against the edge of his desk and slowly he sank down onto it. I couldn’t tell if he was shocked because of the pregnancy itself or shocked because I knew. “You . . . you’re . . . pregnant?”

  Maybe I was wrong but it sounded like he’d almost said “still.”

  “I was.” I softened my voice, made it hitch. “I had a miscarriage following the attack.”

  Relief flashed in his eyes and he made no attempt to hide it. He didn’t say he was sorry.

  “Did you know? Was that the reason for our meeting at the lake? Did you want to talk about it with me?”

  He stood. “I didn’t know.”

  I stared at him, wishing I could wrangle the thoughts from his mind. “I don’t believe you.”

  His shoulders went slack. “I’m not lying. I—the day before our planned meeting, you mentioned you were late with your period.” He went on faster than before. “But I wasn’t worried. I thought it was normal for a girl your age. You weren’t that late, and I didn’t even know you had taken a pregnancy test.” His eyes darted around the room, he twisted his hands, and the first signs of sweat patches showed in his armpits. But it wasn’t proof of him lying. Any guy who just learned he’d impregnated his secret girlfriend would likely break out in a sweat.

  “But you knew it was a possibility. It would’ve made things really complicated for you. People would’ve started wondering who the father was.”

  “I don’t even know if it was mine.”

  Anger surged through me. “What are you trying to say? You think I was cheating on you?”

  “You cheated on Ryan. What am I supposed to think? There’s no proof.” He was right. Madison had cheated on Ryan with him but the way he tried to put the blame on his student really rubbed me the wrong way.

  “You’re right. The proof was destroyed when I almost died,” I said quietly.

  He swallowed and looked down. “Did you tell anyone about it?”

  “No.”

  But what if Devon knew? Or maybe Dr. Hansen? What if Madison had gone to her to ask about the pregnancy? Yates could’ve killed Dr. Hansen in order to silence her.

  The school bell rang once—only five minutes until the next class started—and Yates released a breath. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm. “This is a new chance for both of us. My wife and I have started marriage counseling. We should leave the past behind. Just think what people would say about you if they found out about us.”

  I couldn’t believe he was trying to make Madison feel guilty and threatening her reputation. Disgusted, I shook him off and stormed out of the room. Nobody paid me any attention as I hurried away. My brain was struggling to wrap itself around what had just happened when Ryan stepped in my way.

  “We need to talk,” he said. I wasn’t sure if I was in the mindset for another difficult conversation but I nodded anyway.

  “Let’s go somewhere private,” Ryan said, turning on his heel. At the other end of the corridor, Francesca made a face that would have impressed even Kate. She gave me the evil eye as I followed him; gossip would be floating around school soon.

  Ryan led me into an empty unlocked classroom, closed the door, and leaned up against it. I braced myself for an argument as I waited for him to speak. He pushed himself off the wall and began moving toward me but then stopped and ran a hand through his hair. He looked nervous. “Listen, Maddy.”

  The way he said it, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it, his face warped with regret, I knew this conversation wouldn’t take the turn I’d thought. I let him take my hand in his own, which were big and calloused. It wasn’t quite as bad as Yates touching me, but I didn’t want Ryan to be this close, either.

  “I’m sorry for what happened. It was stupid of me and it won’t happen again. I really want you back.”

  What wouldn’t happen again?

  “Please, Maddy.”

  His other hand came up to my neck and that was too much. I tried to pull away but his hands tightened around me like vices.

  “Let me go,” I hissed.

  “Don’t be like that, Maddy. You know I love you. We were the dream couple, why ruin it all?”

  His hand on my neck drew me toward him, trapping my hand between us. He was so close I smelled the staleness of cigarettes on his breath. “Let me go,” I said, shifting my weight to get a better stance. “You’ve got a new girlfriend, go be with her.”

  “Chloe? Please. I was just trying to make you jealous. It’s nothing. I want only you.”

  Our lips were inches apart. I struggled against his grip but with a thrust he pulled me into his arms and pressed his lips against mine. His fingers dug into my skin. Images from my training with Alec flashed in my mind. I clenched my mouth shut and jerked my knee upward. Bull’s-eye.

  With a feral noise—half yowl, half groan—he let go of me and staggered backward before sinking to his knees as if he was about to pray.

  A shudder went through my body. That had almost been my first kiss.

  “What the hell’s gotten into you?” he panted. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Because you don’t understand the meaning of no,” I said, careful to stay out of his arm range. He was strong and tall. The element of surprise was what had given me an advantage, but that was gone now.

  He closed his eyes. I couldn’t read his expression. Was he angry or apologetic?

  “What happened before I broke up with you?” I demanded. The bell rang a second time. I’d be late for class.

  He cradled his crotch in his hands, looking up at me with damp eyes. He pressed his lips together. For a moment it looked as though his eyes had clouded over. Had I hit him that hard?

  “You okay?” I asked stupidly.

  “No, I haven’t been okay since you broke up with me.”

  The door opened, hitting Ryan in the back and making him stumble forward.

  Alec poked his head into the room; his eyes darted between Ryan and me before he stepped inside and closed the door.

  “Get out. This is private,” Ryan growled, a fine sheen of perspiration on his face.

  Alec ignored him. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “We were just talking.”

  “Is this your new boyfriend? That took all of five minutes.” Ryan staggered to his feet, his shoulders hunched from pain. He looked like the answer would really crush him. But there was something else at play.

  “That’s none of your business,” Alec said before I could say no.

  Ryan took a step toward me, his face conflicted

  Alec pushed him back. “Get out before you lose more than your pride.”

  They were almost the same height but Ryan didn’t know that Alec was stronger than any normal human. He straightened as if he wanted to fight but pain still contorted on his face. I had landed a good hit. With one last look at me, he left.

  “Looks like you just made a new enemy,” I told Alec.

  His face turned dark. “I can deal with him.”

  Following the line of Alec’s eyes, I saw the finger marks Ryan had left on my wrist. Good thing that Alec couldn’t see my neck from that angle. It felt sore, too. Ryan took getting Madison back a bit too seriously.

  I rubbed my wrist and leaned against a table.

  “Why did you follow him into an empty classroom?”

  “Because he came to my house yesterday to talk. He wasn’t going to give up unless I finally spoke to him.”

  “He was at the house? Why didn’t you tell me? He could’ve come to attack you.”

  “I’m not stupid, Alec, and Devon was home anyway.”

  Alec shook his head. “Oh great, is that supposed to calm me? That guy is as much of a suspect as Ryan.”

  I shushed him. We couldn’t risk being overheard.

  “Devon is innocent.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I think Yates knew about Madison’s pregnancy.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No. I’m not sure. He didn’t admit anything, but he was jumpy and tried to guilt me into not talking about the affair or the pregnancy with anyone. I don’t know what to make of him.”

  Alec closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. “I’ll talk to Major.”

  “We need to get to class,” I said, knowing the look on his face too well. I turned to exit the classroom.

  “You’re risking too much,” Alec whispered.

  “I’m just trying to do my job, Alec. We always knew it would be risky.”

  The following weekend I met the rest of Madison’s family at the barbecue Ronald organized to celebrate her recovery.

  Madison’s paternal grandparents arrived first, with presents—chocolate truffles, money, and books. It felt wrong to accept anything from them, but I did anyway. Madison’s grandpa had a laugh like dry leaves and he put his cigar down only to light a new one.

  The spicy smell of tobacco mingled with the smoky smell of the steaks sizzling on the grill. It was a cold and cloudy day but even that couldn’t dampen the mood. There were about twenty people there, but we could have easily fed twenty more with the amount of food piling up on the dining room table, not to mention the pile of steaks waiting by the grill. Madison’s cousins, aunts and uncles, godparents, and great aunts were all in attendance. There were so many guests that I couldn’t even remember half of their names. Luckily most of them just asked me if I was well and hugged me before they moved on to grab something to eat. They were a hungry bunch. Only Uncle Scott, Ronald’s older brother, and his wife, Aunt Cecilia, stuck to my side like superglue.

  Uncle Scott, who had a mustache that curled around his lips like a constant frown, told dirty jokes about nuns and penguins that made my throat ache from laughter, while Aunt Cecilia giggled at each one as though she was hearing it for the first time. Watching them interact made me laugh even more than the jokes.

  The whole house buzzed with laughter, conversation, chewing, and the occasional burp—from Uncle Scott. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been happier. The smile seemed to be permanently carved into my face, my muscles aching from unfamiliar use. Was this how my life could have been if I had been normal? In that moment, I wished more than anything that I could keep them; that I was more than an impostor with a borrowed family.

  I turned around, feeling like I’d suffocate if I stayed with them for a moment longer. I headed for the kitchen, hoping to find a moment alone but instead found Linda frosting a huge buttercream cake. She didn’t hear me enter over the chatter coming from the rest of the house and I stopped for a moment to watch her as she spread the icing with a spatula. She had a small, happy smile on her face. Instinctively, my fingers closed around the rose pendant over my breastbone, drawing comfort from it.

  Linda turned and dropped the spatula, clapping a hand over her heart. “Good God, Maddy, you scared me.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just needed . . .” I trailed off, not sure how to tell her I needed a reprieve from her family. She gave me a knowing look.

  “I know. They can be quite overwhelming,” she said as she picked up the cake stand and headed toward the dining room. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I stared out of the kitchen window, still clutching the pendant. A flash of white-blond hair had rounded the property and stopped behind the fence. As he took a step closer, his face came into view: Phil Faulkner. He seemed to be glancing up at something. My window? I knew he lived close by, but I’d never seen him loitering around the neighborhood before. Could he be the guy watching my window? What was his deal?

  His eyes moved down toward the kitchen window, where he caught my gaze. He was holding something in his hand but from my vantage point I couldn’t see what it was. He hastily turned and hurried away. And then I saw what he was carrying: a fishing rod. The pathology report had said the victims were strangled with a wire. What if it was a fishing line?

  I debated whether or not to follow him when Devon walked into the kitchen, carrying an empty platter. It was the same one I’d seen piled high with steaks and spareribs in the living room just a few minutes ago. “Do lots of people go fishing in this area?”

  He opened the fridge and piled up even more meat on the tray. “Many people do. The lake is a good fishing ground.”

  I frowned at the pile of meat. Dimples dented Devon’s cheeks when he noticed me staring, and his eyes had a mischievous glimmer in them.

  “Don’t tell me you want to barbecue them,” I said, following him through the living room and out into the backyard, where a pillar of smoke rose into the sky.

  “Dad asked me to take his place for this round,” Devon said as he loaded the grate with steaks the size of dinner plates. The meat sizzled when it touched the hot surface and a new wave of smoke bubbled up into the air.

  “But Mom’s already taken the cake into the dining room. I thought it was time for dessert.” I mean, the hungry bunch had already eaten half a cow at least.

  Devon turned the steaks with barbecue tongs. “Maddy. A Chambers barbecue isn’t over until every piece of meat has been cooked and gobbled down.”

  Oops, that seemed like something I should have known.

  “What’s up with Uncle Scott’s facial hair?”

  Devon grinned and suddenly I could breathe again. “You mean his porn-stache?”

  I laughed and so did he. So much in fact that he didn’t notice how his hand was inching dangerously close to the hot grate. I opened my mouth to warn him but it was too late. His hand bumped against the barbecue. He jerked it back, dropping the tongs and letting out a hiss of pain.

  My stomach plummeted. Burn wounds could be ugly, and this would be bad. Devon cradled his hand against his chest and bent down to pick up the tongs as if he was going to keep right on grilling. I wrestled them out of his grip. “Let me see your hand.”

  He turned away, his shoulder forming a shield between us. “It’s nothing, Maddy. I didn’t even touch the grate.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” I gripped his arm and pulled his hand back toward me. I turned it around but the skin was only a bit red, as though nothing had happened at all.

  He pulled away and took the barbecue tongs, resuming his work. “I told you it was nothing. I was just startled. I barely touched it.”

  Had my eyes played a trick on me? Maybe he hadn’t really touched the grill. But I could have sworn I’d seen it happen. Seen him grimace in pain.

  Ronald poked his head out of the backdoor. “Are the steaks done? Uncle Scott’s moved on to his sheep jokes. I’d be great if we could get him busy chewing again.”

  I raised my eyebrows at Devon for an explanation. He smirked. “Don’t ask. Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

  It was almost midnight when the last visitors left. I felt drained from all the happiness and the knowledge that it was fleeting. Soon I’d have to exit this world and leave only darkness in my wake, when Linda and Ronald would learn the truth about their daughter’s death.

  Once the lights were turned out, I crept down the stairs and tiptoed into the garage. I used a small flashlight to illuminate my surroundings. Slowly, I guided the beam over the workbench and the camping equipment. There was nothing suspicious—no knives, no fishing lines, no wire. Relief flooded me. A creak sounded behind me.

  “What are you doing?”

  I whirled around, my heart thrashing against my rib cage. The beam of the flashlight caught on Devon’s frown and he squinted. I lowered my arm. “I thought you were asleep,” I said.

  He peeked over my head into the garage. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I couldn’t sleep and then I thought I heard a noise and got scared,” I said quickly.

  Concern flashed across his face. “You should have woken me or Dad. You shouldn’t sneak around in the dark,” he whispered. He glanced at the stairs; the voices of Linda and Ronald carried down from their bedroom. Had we woken them? I’d thought they were sleeping.

  “I know,” I said. “But I didn’t want to worry you. I already feel like enough of a burden.”

  I hugged Devon and leaned my cheek against his chest, not sure if that was a sisterly move. His arms wrapped around me. He felt warm and strong and he smelled like skin and cotton and comfort. I pressed my nose into his shirt, hoping he wouldn’t notice. I knew without a doubt that he wasn’t the killer, no matter what anyone else said.

  I slipped out of my clothes, turned on the shower, and stepped under the stream of water. Goose bumps erupted all over my body and for one glorious moment my mind felt empty. But then it started. At first in my toes, then my calves, and up to my thighs. My skin rippled, undulated, stretched; my bones shifted, cracked, repositioned. Shock kept me rooted to the spot. The rippling moved higher until it had taken over all of me. Shifting without volition—that wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now, not ever.

  I willed it to stop, for my body to obey my orders. My skin rippled and shifted in small waves, like there were bugs crawling under its surface. That wasn’t normal. It had never happened before.

  Grabbing a towel, I got out of the shower stall and stumbled as my legs shortened a few inches. My knees collided with the tiled floor, sending sparks of pain through them. I held my arms out in front of me. I shuddered, which ushered in a new wave of rippling through my body as my skin grew paler.

  I gripped the washbasin and pulled myself to my feet. I staggered to the mirror to see my reflection. My face was shifting, remolding slowly. It was still Madison’s face but my eyes were turning turquoise. First one, like one of those Siberian huskies with different-colored eyes, and then the other. My lips twisted, my bangs lengthened and turned auburn. It was happening to me. I could see it happening, could feel it happening, but I was powerless to stop it.

  I pressed my eyes shut, refusing to believe what I saw. Why wouldn’t it stop? Ripping, tearing, stretching, and then it was over. I looked at my reflection. It was no longer the one it was supposed to show, the one I’d gotten used to.

  Freckled nose, auburn locks, turquoise eyes. Madison was gone.

 

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