“But now here you are,” he says. “Ironic, really, since you’re the one who ruined everything. It was all your fault. If I hadn’t been with you, Sunny would have lived.”
I swallow. My fault. What to say? He is in love with a ghost,a vision of Sunny. I think about Sunny, her impish grin, the dazzling warmth of her presence, her sparkling green eyes and long blond hair. Her signature laugh that lit up the room. I look into his eyes, dark and simmering. He blames me for all of this? Incredible.
“Did you, um, make that mannequin, the one that fell from the sky?” I ask. I keep my tone calm, like this is a normal question.
48
Beth
When he finally decides to say something, his voice is odd, robotic.
“Sunny’s memorial room is tucked away—well, it was—above the dining room, unfortunately,” Ryan says. “There will be so much damage to sort through. Thank God she’s OK, though. She wasn’t in there when the tree fell. Look, Beth, I can’t have you telling anyone about her. Not yet. I’ve got to get through the divorce. You understand.”
“Sure, yes, your secret is safe with me,” I say. Ryan moves in front of the door, blocking my exit. I walk across the room to the window. The morning sunrise sky is a bright yellow morphing into blue. What a welcome sight. It’s time to go.
I turn around and bump into Ryan. He is standing too close. He grabs my shoulders.
“Do I scare you or something?” he says. “I thought you stillhad a crush on me, I really did. I thought you’d do anything for me, like you did that night all those years ago. I’ve been keeping tabs on you. Watching you, and Celeste. I wanted to reach out, but I was trapped by Roxy.”
His fingers are digging into the top of my arms, and it hurts. I swallow, fear and panic zipping through me. Hopefully, Celeste and Zach will come check on me. “What do you want, Ryan?”
He releases one of my shoulders but steps forward and pins me against the window. He takes his phone out of his pocket. “I want you to meet Sunny.”
49
Amelia
Morning is my least favorite time of the day. I stretch and stifle a yawn, surprised I was able to sleep given the events of the night before. Sure, I acted freaked out like the rest of them, but I wasn’t really.
As I hope you know by now, I am a great actress. I should have pursued that dream of moving to LA and auditioning until I made it. I would have made it. But my parents forbade it, and so I slumped into a traditional life as a wife and mother, eventually a DC socialite with no desires other than maintaining her appearance for as long as possible. But looks always fade, and nothing is as it appears.
I don’t drink half as much as they think I do, at least not on a normal evening. But still, last night was a long one, and unnerving at that. Even I couldn’t fake my way through it without some booze.
So, yes, I’m a bit hungover. OK, maybe a lot hungover. That’s why I’m at the pool, on a lounge chair, waiting for one of Roxy’s servers to bring me a Bloody Mary. A little hair of the dog, so to speak, before I head out.
The sun feels fabulous this morning, and despite the layer of dust and soot covering everything, I’m happy out here. I scraped the dirt and debris off the lounge chair with a broom I found in the pool house closet, grabbed a cute towel from my room, and voilà, perfection amid the chaos. That’s me. Truth be told, I often cause the chaos that I’m surrounded by.
This whole weekend is a blur.
While I am lying on the lounge chair, I’m contemplating packing. If Brett were still alive, I would have begged him to throw all my stuff back in my suitcases. I hate that part of traveling. Back at home, my housekeeper packs for me and unpacks when I return. Yes, I’m spoiled, but I deserve it. I look down at my phone and open my photos. There’s one of Brett and me, a selfie at breakfast yesterday morning. We still had the glow from sex. We looked good, and healthy. But now he’s dead. I think about poor dead Brett, in repose on the piano. I wasn’t sure what to do with his things, so I decided I would leave them as they are in the room we shared and get the heck out of there. After I pack, reluctantly, I’ll summon one of Roxy and Ryan’s servants to carry my Louis Vuitton bags to the car this time. I’ll leave Brett and his baggage behind.
I’m also lying here reflecting on all the confessions of last night, amid the chaos of the storm and the tree falling throughthe dining room. These ladies sure do know how to spill the beans, and next thing you know, they all think they see Sunny everywhere they turn. That’s silly. Ghosts haunt the ones who hurt them. That’s their job.
Sunny should be haunting me, truth be told. I killed her. It was me. I got to her before Jamie ever saw her, and I made sure she died in that pool. Cold? Perhaps. But she was about to ruin my life.
You see, Sunny knew my big secret back then, senior year. I remember the moment she confronted me like it was yesterday. The tap on my shoulder that changed everything. I turned and there was Sunny. I put on my best blank face, but I knew what this would be about. I twirled one of my pigtails in my right hand, a nervous habit since childhood.
“Hey, I’m sorry to bring this up here, but I’ve had trouble finding you at the house,” Sunny said. “You need to pay your dues, Amelia. You are two quarters behind, and we all know you have the money.” Sunny’s perfect hair spilled over her shoulders, and she wore a cute kelly-green sweater and jeans, not dressy, not fancy, but beautiful, naturally, as always. We’d all returned to campus after Christmas break. The chapter meeting was about to begin. I’d reluctantly attended because I didn’t want a fine and because I am one of the queen bees of the sorority, so my absence would be noticed.
Girls were chatting about their breaks, how wonderful it had been to be home. Mine wasn’t that wonderful; in fact, it was horrible. I’d arrived home from campus and walked into my family’sregal Boston home. None of the lights were on, and my mother and father were sitting in their favorite chairs in the living room. Seemingly waiting for me, but they were in the dark. I started to turn on a light, but my father said, “Leave it. Sit down.” So, I did, taking a chair across from them.
“There’s no easy way to say this, Amelia, and I’m not sure of all the repercussions yet,” my father said, “but we are ruined.”
That was the moment my life fractured into before and after. The moment everything changed. “I don’t understand, sir,” I’d said.
“I’ve declared bankruptcy, Amelia. My family’s textile industry has come to ruin in my hands,” my father said as my mom sniffled quietly next to him. “I’ll likely go to prison for a bit. But that’s not your worry. I would suggest you graduate and get the hell away from us. Find a good man who can afford the lifestyle you’re accustomed to.”
I wanted to move to LA and be an actress. “Don’t worry. I’ll support myself in LA.”
