“Miss Olivia.” Campbell was the first to speak up once we were all shut inside. “You simply cannot think . . .”

“Campbell, dear, I can and do think—frequently. And let’s drop the pretense of manners on your part, shall we? I’ve had your number since you and Lily were seven. Given the circumstances, I don’t feel particularly obligated to continue pretending that you aren’t a real piece of work.”

The mention of Lily’s name set my teeth on edge and freed my voice. “Since Lily was seven? You’ve been pretending to be Olivia Taft since Lily was seven?”

On some level, I’d thought that this woman—Ellen’s daughter—was a recent replacement, but from the moment she’d referenced being the best shot in the family, it had been clear to me that I’d never known the real Olivia Taft.

How long has this been going on?

Aunt Olivia—I couldn’t think of her as anything else—burst into a peal of laughter. “Oh, Sawyer, honey, you are just too much. You went to Two Arrows. You met Ellen. You were snooping around and asking questions left and right. And don’t think I didn’t overhear every word you said to J.D. about—what is it you girls call her?—the Lady of the Lake.”

The Lady of the Lake? I tried to make sense of the direction Aunt Olivia’s statement had gone. The body. The one she was blackmailing Uncle J.D. about.

“And still,” Aunt Olivia continued, tickled pink, “you ask me how long I’ve been Olivia Taft?” She shook her head, lifting the gun and assessing it the way I’d seen her appraising a piece of family jewelry, just before putting it on. “Sweetheart, I’m the only Olivia Taft there’s ever been.”

KACI
SUMMER BEFORE SENIOR YEAR
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS EARLIER

Kaci was going to catch hell for staying out so late, but what else was new? These days, catching hell was all the world would let her do. No college. No real opportunities.

Nothing.

Kaci had always wanted more, and nothing her mama said or did could change that.

She was twelve when she’d started promising that, one day, she’d leave Two Arrows and never come back.

Thirteen when her mother had snapped that she was just like her.

Fourteen when she’d discovered that the her in question was her mother’s sister. A twin sister that the rest of town knew better than to even mention.

Kaci was fifteen the first time she’d hitched a ride into the city to spy on Lillian Taft. She’d had a plan to introduce herself. She’d daydreamed that Lillian would take one look at her and bring her into the Taft family fold.

And then Kaci had seen her. Not Lillian. Lillian’s daughter—Liv.