Heather’s breath hitched, and—like a slap to the face—I came to.
“Oh god.Of course. I’m so sorry, Heather. I’m getting help, I’m going right now.”
I spun and dashed for the door, flinging it open, then raced out of the suite. I jammed the elevator button and waited, feeling frantic. I’d go find the administrator on the first floor, the one working the late-night shift. They’d have a phone. They’d call 911.
The elevator doors slid open and I ran inside, pressing the button for the lobby. The elevator started to sink.
I rested my head against the back of the elevator and closed my eyes, seeing my friend laid out bloody in my bed. It was the manifestation of all my darkest thoughts: Heather Shelby, the girl who won everything, who always got what I wanted, begging me for help. Her eyes pleading with me, each breath shallow and gurgling.
The floors ticked back on the elevator screen:seventeen, sixteen, fifteen.
Heather, the girl who’d won the fellowship. Who’d stolen my dream. On the edge of dying.
Fourteen, thirteen, twelve.
Everything I’d done to make my father proud, and to redeem him—none of it had ever been good enough.
I’d tried to work hard, do it the right way, but it didn’t matter. Either life was unfair, or I was staggeringly unremarkable. Those were the only two options. I couldn’t live with either.
Eleven, ten, nine.
And now this insanity. This unexpected horror.
This new twist in the plot.
My insides coiled with rage, grief, and fear. And then I remembered. Amber Van Swann, and the sex tape. Madison, and the test.
Eight, seven, six.
Sometimes, you didn’t have to lift a finger. Sometimes, you could do nothing and get exactly what you wanted.
Five, four, three.
Maybe not what youwanted. At least not outside your darkest heart of hearts. It wasn’t anyone’s death you were after—of course not. But the scales evened, the balance restored. The girl who always stole first place, taken off the playing field.
Two.
One.
The elevator dinged, and the doors rolled open.
I walked on hollow legs into the empty lobby and turned toward the administrator’s office. It was right there in the corner, door closed, blinds shut, but a light on, visible through the cracks. Then I looked at the front doors. At the dark night waiting outside the glass.
My present self echoed through the memory, calling out a question, soaked in guilt and grief.What had I done?
But of course I knew which way my legs had taken me.
I opened my eyes. Coop and I flew down the road, the wind a thousand pinpricks of ice. There it was. The terrible thing I’d done, what I’d spent a decade avoiding and chasing in equal measure. I’d found Heather that night, and I’d left her to die.
I’d been cowardly and selfish, intoxicated and in shock. I knew now that nothing would have saved her by the time I’d found her, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, I’d made my choice.
And so finally, the truth had surfaced. The verdict was in. Forget exceptional, or even mediocre. I wasn’t close to a good person. Not a murderer, like Mint, but only a few shades better. I could see now that even though I hadn’t let myself remember, I’d always been trying to make up for it. Trying to balance the scales.
And maybe I’d actually done it. Look where we were now: Mint, the man who’d killed Heather, who’d betrayed me, dead and exposed to the world. Courtney, the entitled queen, reduced to the wife of a killer, her internet stardom shot to hell, but at least she was getting help. Frankie, who’d stood up to Mint when it counted, a hero, living life with a big imagination. Jack, cleared of all charges, his good name restored. Caro, finally done with us, the people she’d put on a pedestal. I hoped she’d forgive me one day. She was the kind of person who actually might do it. But if she didn’t, that was okay, too. In fact, it was probably better.
Coop, the man I loved, finally mine.
In the end, what a Homecoming. What a triumph. For once in my life, everything really had worked out so perfectly.
