“I had to tell Mom. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my whole life. She took it better than I thought.” George shrugs. “She looks at the urn and says, ‘I never felt like he was really in there.’ I tried to make her go to the police with the information, but she just wanted to forget about it. I couldn’t forget. So I… I made a podcast about it.”
I’m laughing. I can’t help it. This entire story is completely crazy, but so incredibly George. “You made apodcast.”
“Right. A true-crime podcast. It’s called, 'My Dad is a Gerbil.’ It’s quite well-known now, one of the top-20 true crime podcasts on Spotify.” A red blush creeps across George’s cheeks. “Yet another reason kids at Stonehurst don’t like me. A true-crime podcaster doesn’t exactly fit in with their preppy, Hollywood-slick image, yet I’ve got more followers than most of them combined.”
Wow.I stare at my tiny friend, her face animated as she talks about her podcast, and I see a whole other side of her. George is so like Eli in some ways – obsessed with the truth, unable to let go of an unsolved puzzle, and desperate to make the world a better place. She’s more driven and dedicated than all the wannabe actresses and influencers at Stonehurst, and she does it without endless funding from a trust fund or wealthy parents.
“George Fisher, I am in awe.” I hold out my hand. She takes it, and I shake vigorously as I clink our glasses with the other. “You’re awesome. I’m honored you chose to hand me a fork that day.”
George’s face glows. I wish she didn’t relish my compliments. No one as cool as George should be so desperate for a friend that she goes back to her ex-bully. Especially not now she knows I’m not really Mackenzie and I’m a whole package of trouble.
“What happened next?” I prod.
“Things get next-level crazy. I’m putting out podcast episodes and researching what might have happened to my dad’s body. I start getting emails from other families in Emerald Beach, saying the same things – long waits to get their remains, tiny packages, one lady said her brother’s ashes smell suspiciously like cement.Then, an FBI agent gets in touch with me. It turns out they were investigating Memories from the Hart. I share my notes with him, and the contact information for all the people who sent in their stories. They were able to get enough evidence from eleven of them to bring down Walter Hart on criminal charges.
“When the story broke at school, it was horrible. I’m so used to being invisible, but now everyone was listening to my podcast, learning all this personal stuff about my dad. Alec hung a dead gerbil in my locker. It wasn’t even the stuff they did at school – I’m used to being the class freak. They came after me online. They found old class pictures of mine and Photoshopped them onto pornography and sent them to the lawyers to discredit me. They made up insane stories about me.”
“Even Eli?”
She shakes her head. “No. Eli was amazing. He tried to get them to stop. He stood up for me when Alec…”
“What?”
She shook her head.
“George, I know that bastard did something to you. It’s safe it you want to tell me.”
George won’t look at me. “I’ve never told anyone before. But I know what you did to his forehead, and I think you had something to do with gym class, too, and I…”
“Just say the words and I’ll make you your own brand.” I point to one of her tattoos. “We could put a cat on it. That’d look great – Alec walking around with a grinning cat-face burned into his forehead.”
“You’re terrifying, Mackenzie Malloy.” George slaps my knee. “I have an idea. Can I make it the topic of my next podcast to figure out what happened to your parents?”
Here it is.
Her question hangs in the air between us. I watch George’s lip quiver, and I see this is what’s she’s been angling for all along.
That’s what she and Eli are doing together. They’re digging into me, into my family. They’re trying to find every one of my filthy secrets so they can stop me from keeping Malloy Manor.
After homecoming night, after the diary entry, after the kiss, aftereverything, Eli is still holding on to his hate.
If George starts digging into my life, she’s clever enough to uncover my secrets. And I need to hold them close.
But on the other hand… the entire world believes Mackenzie Malloy has returned, which means the weird stuff that’s happened could be related to her, not the Julian family feud. It would be useful to know what happened to the Malloys – did Brentwood kill Howard and Ainsley? If he didn’t kill Mackenzie, like he said, and Senator Marlowe believed they were dead until now, then where is my doppelganger?
If I can convince George to trust me again, even after all the lies, will she still keep digging into the Malloys? But that would put George in the middle of the firing line. And I can’t do that to her…
I fucking hate this. She’s the only friend I’ve ever had and I’m still lying to her. Grow some ovaries and get this done. We’re running out of time.
I shrug. “Can I think about it?”
“Sure. Want to think about it over a chocolate cake appetizer while I order the pizza?”
I make a face. “As long as there’s no cauliflower.”
“I promise.” George hands me an enormous knife, and I cut into the cake. The knife slides easily – it’s nice and sharp. Anne-Maree Fisher takes good care of her knives. I appreciate that. Maybe we will get along okay after all.
George places an order for enough pizza and french fries and garlic bread to feed a Roman legion. She sets her phone down and takes the plate I offer her. I sink my teeth into the moist cake, letting the sugar rush bolster me.
