Why is he so sure?

“She didn’t try once to contact us,” Curtis mutters. “Where was she for all this time?”

“You’re not listening!” Brent shouts. “I’m telling you, it’s not Saskia!”

The desperation in his voice silences us. A terrible feeling grips me and somehow I know what Brent’s going to say next. It’s what I read in his eyes two nights ago.

Then he says it. “It can’t be her. Because I killed her.”

Curtis’s head jerks from Brent to the screen. “What? No. That’s her.”

I stare at the screen. It certainly looks like Saskia. And yet . . .

Brent kneels before Curtis. His voice cracks. “I’m so sorry, bro.”

Curtis’s gaze flits between Brent and the screen. I can understand his turmoil. Half of him is trying to take in what Brent has just said. The other half longs to believe that’s his sister out there, alive and well, though he’s horrified by what she’s just done.

And what it would mean. To have vanished for ten years, then returned to do this to us, you’d have to be some kind of psycho.

Yet isn’t that exactly what Saskia is?

Brent bows his head. “I’m so, so . . . sorry.” He’s choking up.

The figure on the screen steps forward and disappears from view. Coming our way. I want to hear this, but she—whoever she is—is going to be here any minute.

“We have to go,” I say.

But where?

Ride down. That’s the best option. And hope we’re faster than her. A wave of pain from my knee reminds me of the problem with that idea. I tug Curtis’s arm. “I need that sports tape. Now.”

Curtis doesn’t budge and I don’t know if he even heard me. “Keep talking,” he tells Brent.

Brent looks at him, anguish in his eyes. His voice trembles; his hands, too. “The morning of the comp, I turned up at Milla’s place. And found her and your sister in bed together.”

Curtis turns to me in shock.

Oh God. That’s probably the worst possible way he could have found out.

“I walked down the street in a daze,” Brent says. “And Saskia caught up with me a few blocks away. She was laughing. Know what she said?” He takes a shaky breath. “It’s the first time all winter Milla’s been satisfied.”

“Not true,” I say.

I can totally imagine Saskia saying that. She’d vowed to get back at Brent for humiliating her in the cable car and here was the perfect opportunity. Brent’s distress would amuse her no end. She’d sink her claws in, keen to see if she could hurt him further.

Brent continues, clenching his fists. “How does it feel to be dumped for a girl?”