For a moment I heard a distant sound of childish laughter echoing down the corridors of my memory. That day at the ice rink, Nisha and I had tried to teach ourselves some of the tricks we’d seen during the Olympics. Michelle Kwan made toe loops look so easy, but we spent most of our time falling flat on our butts and laughing at ourselves. I couldn’t remember why we’d ended up hating each other so much. Maybe it had just been that we were similar in all the wrong ways. We wanted the same things, and we were both willing to fight for them.

Emma climbed back to her feet and sighed. If there had ever been any evidence here, it was already in the hands of the killer. After all, Sutton’s murderer had been a step ahead of her since she first arrived in Tucson. Why would this time be any different?

She stood in the doorway, sweeping her gaze one more time around Nisha’s bedroom. Good-bye, Nisha, she thought. I’m so sorry you got pulled into this. She turned off the light and started the long walk back down the hallway. At the kitchen door she drew to a sudden stop, biting the corner of her lip. Then, impulsively, she went to the counter and started to gather the empty food containers. She found a roll of paper towels under the sink and wiped the counters down, then loaded the dishwasher, moving as quietly as she could. Somewhere in the house she could hear the low murmur of a television set.

Then she stuffed the takeout boxes into a garbage bag and carried it with her, past the night-light, past the beautiful furniture and the brightly colored tapestries and the elegant vases and all the other things that Dr. Banerjee had shared, once upon a time, with his family—back into the darkness beyond.

Good-bye, Nisha. I added my farewell to my sister’s. I promise, whoever did this to us is going to pay.

5 - Her Cheating Heart

5

HER CHEATING HEART

After the final bell rang the next day at school, Emma slowly gathered her books from her locker. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face the tennis team, not yet. It would be an emotional practice. Emma blinked away a tear, looking at her reflection in the tiny mirror inside Sutton’s locker. Pull it together, she commanded herself, and slammed the door shut. Then she did a double take.

Thayer Vega was standing there, waiting to talk to her.

My dead-girl heart gave a lurch at the sight of him. A gray henley shirt pulled tight across his muscular chest. His dark hair hung down over one eye, and his backpack was slung casually over his shoulder. Thayer had been the only boy I’d ever loved, the one person who really knew me.