Lili made a tsk noise with her tongue. “I warned you, Sutton. But you didn’t listen.” She shifted on the rocks, edging closer to Emma. With a swift, violent motion, Lili grabbed Emma by Sutton’s necklace, just as she’d done that night in Charlotte’s kitchen. Emma kicked with all her might, banging her knee on the rocks over her head, feeling blood run over her shin. She tried to scream, but Lili had clapped a hand over her mouth, and it only came out as a muffled gurgle. Lili pulled at the necklace, stretching the chain tight against Emma’s throat. Emma began to cough, flailing her arms and legs, thrashing with all her might. Lili pulled harder, the chain cutting into Emma’s skin.

“Please!” Emma croaked, barely having enough air to cry out. Her lungs screamed, and she desperately tried to inhale. Lili giggled.

Suddenly, there was a prick of pain at the side of Emma’s neck, and the necklace broke free. The heavy locket released from the chain and dropped down the front of Emma’s shirt, landing in the waistband of her jeans. Lili’s eyes blazed. Her teeth were bared in a crocodile smile. A vein stood out on her forehead, and she leered at Emma with hatred and vengeance. It was the face of a killer. Sutton’s killer . . . and hers, too.

I wanted Emma to run. I wanted her to fight. But instead, I steeled myself for the worst. Suddenly, the strange snapping sensation I always got when I was about to relive a memory whipped through me like a freight train. I saw bright, whirling lights. Widened eyes. A girl on a gurney. The word EMERGENCY glowing in red on top of a porte cochere. My nose tickled with the scent of antiseptic and sickness. My ears tingled with the sounds of moans—maybe my own.

And just like that, I fell headfirst into another memory. . . .

Chapter 30 - Clever Little Bitches

Chapter 30
The Aftermath

The emergency-room waiting area is crowded with people: sick babies screaming, a greasy guy in a hard hat with the mother of all splinters in his fleshy, dirty thumb, a bunch of old people who look like they’re already halfway in the grave. The five of us sit upright in our chairs, not leafing through old magazines, not watching the lame-ass local news on TV, just staring at the double doors that divide us from the emergency room and Gabby.

By the time we arrived at the hospital, Gabby had already been taken into the treatment area. The only thing the nurses told us when we burst through the doors was that we had to wait, and they pointed us to the seating area where Lili was already pacing.