Emma sighed, rolling over on her back and flipping through the book for the hundredth time. What would it have been like if their situations had been reversed—if Sutton had been forced to figure out who Emma was through her journals? Her twin would probably be as annoyed as Emma was now—after all, none of her cutesy fake headlines or lists had any real information in them. Emma had always been careful not to put in too many details or names. In a foster home you never knew who was going to get into your stuff.

“It just feels like the harder we look, the less we find,” she said. “I’ve dog-eared all the pages that say anything about G, but none of them are of any use.”

“We have to keep looking. This guy is smart—but somewhere, somehow, he slipped up. I’m sure of it. We just have to figure out how.”

A soft knock sounded at the door. “One second!” she yelled, covering the receiver. Then she dropped her voice.

“Hey, I need to go. See you tomorrow, okay?”

“Love you,” he whispered.

Her toes wiggled at the sound of his sexy baritone saying those two little words. For a moment after she ended the call, she clutched the phone against her heart and smiled. Then she got up off the bed, smoothed her hair, and went to the door.

Mr. Mercer stood in the hall, dressed in a short wool jacket and holding Drake’s leash in one hand. “Looks like the media have gone home for the night. Want to come on a walk?”

“Yes!” Emma had never felt so stir-crazy in her life. She was almost relieved to have to go back to school the next day. Anything would be better than doing nothing.

Drake had caught sight of the leash and was skidding in circles around the entryway when they came down the stairs. His tail flew back and forth wildly, and when it hit the accent table at the foot of the stairs, the photos of Laurel and Sutton propped on top collapsed like a set of dominoes. He reared up and pawed at Mr. Mercer, whining with excitement.

“Down!” Mr. Mercer said, trying to sound stern, but the sight made Emma smile. She pulled on a purple Juicy Couture puffer jacket she’d found in Sutton’s closet while Mr. Mercer snapped the leash to the dog’s collar.