Chapters (54)
“We’re not that different, you and I. We’re both ambitious. We both grew up a hair’s breadth from this world. You were a good study. Are a good study.” She wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand nonchalantly, as though this revelation that she never even cared about her sister’s death, that she’s just been working a business angle the whole time, shouldn’t surprise me. And on some level, I guess it doesn’t.
“This was never about Odilie. Ten years ago Odilie went off and lived the life I’d always imagined for myself. I want that life. I deserve that life. And I’m going to get it. Jackson is introducing me to an investor next week. And a lot of that is because of you, Vera. So thank you.” Her shoulders relax, her fingers stop fidgeting, as if she is so happy and proud of herself for giving me this information, for unburdening herself.
I want to scream. My hair, her hair. My clothes, her clothes. My fingers, her fingers. Mimicked, stolen by both of these deranged sisters.
My arms wrap around each other, a self-inflicted hug. This is all too much, so many overlapping false pretenses, from her, from me. From Tom and Odilie. My head is throbbing and the Bloody Mary smells like menses, dark and putrid, barren.
But before I can leave, I need Page, who is far more insidious, far more calculating, than I ever realized, to tell me something. I whip out the photo of Peri, Tom and the nameless girl. I watch Page’s face as she takes in the horrific image, see her flinch, put a hand to her mouth. “Do you know who that girl is?” I ask, pointing to the one being forced down by Peri.
She nods. “Why do you have this? Where did you get it?” But I ignore her questions.
“Who is it?” And she gives me a name.
I put the photo away, make my way toward the door. “Not a word about that photo to anyone. Unless you want your precious new life to come crumbling down.” She nods solemnly.
And then, as I’m one foot out the door, something occurs to me. “Tom found me on a dating app, though. It was supposed to be totally random, but it must have been deliberate. How did that happen?”
Page looks at me almost condescendingly, like I’m asking a stupid question. “It’s Tom Newburn. He invented SNAPea. He could easily have hacked into the app and engineered a match with you.”
3
TOM