“Hogwash. You’ll get married. Period. We have nothing to give you, not anymore. You will be destitute,” he said. “You are not equipped to take care of yourself in LA or, well, anywhere. You need a rich man.”
I’d never been anything but the rich girl. The rich girl with the best clothes, the fancy car, the biggest group of friends, the largest house. My mind wasn’t processing what he said, so I simply nodded.
“You should go back to campus,” my mother said. “It’sgetting ugly here. Stay at the sorority house. Eat your meals there, as soon as they open back up from break. Theta Gamma Mus take care of each other. You’ll be fine there.”
And so I’d left and flew back to campus on Christmas Eve. No one else was at the house, but that was for the best. I couldn’t face another person, not with what had happened, what I’d suddenly become. During those nights alone I decided no one must know. I would do my best acting job ever. And my performance impressed even me. My dad told me he’d take a plea deal and keep our family name out of the news. I hoped he was right. For my part, I would pretend as if nothing had changed.
I smiled in my best sorority recruitment grin as Sunny studied me carefully, the mask of friendship slipping onto my face. “Sure, I’m planning on it. Right after spring break, OK? My dad had to move some funds around,” I said. “I don’t really understand all the finances, but he said he’d take care of it.”
Sunny had tilted her head, thinking, I suppose, about whether to believe me or not. Money was my superpower, and without it, I’d be nothing. None of these so-called sisters would like me once they knew I wasn’t rich anymore. And the whole campus would find out soon enough. I could not allow that to happen. I had my blue-blooded pride to protect.
Bad news always spreads like wildfire. I refused to be the topic of the rumor mill. Gossip is only fun when it’s not about you.
50
Amelia
I stared at Sunny, looking straight into her green eyes. I had to make a calculation; I had to finagle a win for me, and I’d been thinking about it since I arrived back to campus on Christmas Eve. We were so close to graduation. I could max out my credit cards and fake it. It was only a few more months. No one would see me ruined. If I could get Sunny to keep her mouth shut for two more months, the Theta Gam budget would become the next treasurer’s problem and we’d all be gone, graduated before my missing dues were even discovered. Win-win.
“Fine, but after spring break, I need it all paid in full. We have the spring formal to worry about. OK, great talk,” Sunny said, breezing away from me with her all confident, Miss Popular casual style. Infuriating.
I needed more than the three months until after springbreak. I needed to fake it until we graduated in early June. “Sure, sounds great,” I said to her back.
But still, I didn’t plan on killing her. I’m not a monster. It just happened. An opportunity, and I was taught to seize opportunities. That night, the last night of spring break, I ditched Beth at the casino. You can’t blame me; the place was full of hot guys, and I didn’t want her around for competition. And it all worked out. I went home with a hottie who was staying at our same hotel. After he passed out, I decided to walk back to my own hotel room at the Desert Sunrise. Easier to avoid the awkward morning-after conversation that way. I was doing the middle-of-the-night walk of shame from my hookup’s room when I spotted a familiar figure stumbling around outside by the pool.
“Amelia, can you help me?” Sunny slurred. “I don’t feel so great, and I don’t know where Ryan is.”
She was walking toward me, reeling really, still feeling the effects of Roxy’s roofies, poor thing. And that’s when it happened. She tripped—I don’t know if it was over a lounge chair or over her own two feet—and I heard a sickening thud. It must have been the sound of her hitting her head on the side of the pool, though I didn’t know that at the time. Next thing I knew she was in the water, in the deep end, struggling and flailing, crying for help. It was a pathetic little cry, more like a whimper, really.
“Don’t worry, I’m coming,” I told her, looking around to see if anyone else was out and about. It was only us. The stars twinkled in the sky, and the palm fronds rustled in the gentle breeze.What a wonderful spring break we’d had, all in all. I remember thinking that I should probably hurry, but another, stronger force told me no. My self-preservation button activated, and it wouldn’t turn off. I had a reputation and a future to protect.
Because the fact is, unlike with Jamie, the thought to save her crossed my mind for only a split second. And then it was replaced by self-preservation. I mean, Jamie really is a good girl underneath all that drug addiction, she really is. Except of course she killed Brett in cold blood. So, I guess she isn’t really better than me now, is she?
I’m afraid I would say I’m worse. I’m rotten through and through. That’s why my husband’s job in the Senate was a perfect setting for me. DC is full of liars and cheats and chameleons, almost all of them. They’re out for themselves, they’re familiar that way, and I’m proud to be in their ranks. I’ve found my people, so to speak.
That night, I did walk over to the pool, I did. The lights on under the water created strange shadows, but I could see Sunny’s shape, her petite frame still struggling for air, for help. She brought her head up out of the water as I sat down by the side of the pool. She looked at me. I think she saw me, before her beautiful green eyes rolled back and her head went under again. It didn’t take more than my hand on the top of her head to hold her underwater. She barely fought me at all. Perhaps it was a relief after the confusing, stumbling evening she’d had.
It only took a few minutes to silence Sunny for good. I know that sounds crass, and chilling, and a little bit evil, but it had tobe done. It all worked out in the end, for everyone but Sunny. And we’ll let Jamie believe it was mostly her fault Sunny died. It will be a good talking point for her in therapy, one of the many things an addict needs to work through. She seemed to need some sort of confessional, and now she’s had it. And who knows, really? Maybe Sunny was still alive when Jamie found her. I mean, it’s not like I fished her out of the pool to check for a heartbeat.
I killed two birds with one stone that night. Not only did I graduate without anyone knowing my family and I were destitute—there wasn’t time or energy in the sorority to replace Sunny as treasurer—but I also hit the jackpot with Roxy. It was easy to blackmail her over the roofies after what happened to Sunny. I mean, it was almost my obligation. And sure, Dick, my poor husband, may he rest in peace, was wealthy—I wouldn’t have married him otherwise—but it’s always nice for a girl to have her own side hustle, as they say. Roxy was mine.
Roxy would have paid anything to keep Ryan in the dark, and she did. I’m going to need to replace that monthly allowance. I rely on that money, I really do. I mean, Dick’s estate was fine, but I was expecting more. Another annoying thing about the man. He kept me on the tightest budget all through our marriage and continued the tradition after he died. And, no, I didn’t kill him. That would be too cliché, right? The widow who killed her spouse to get what she wanted. No, he died of a heart attack, pure and simple. Now, if I had known Jamie’s trick, I might have considered it. But I digress.
Jamie will be my new Theta Gam lifeline, my new side hustle. Guilt is such a wonderful tool. She’ll pay, or I’ll send her to prison. Oh, I know Beth made us pinky promise to stick together, made me promise not to blackmail Jamie, to keep her secret. But too bad. It’s every woman for herself. Always has been.
51
Amelia
I look up and enjoy the clear, blue sky. It’s a shame everything is coated in sand and dust out here. It really was a beautiful place. What? Who is that? I blink and take off my sunglasses. And sit up. Goose bumps dot my skin.
It’s a woman, and even after I blink a few more times, she’s still there. She’s on the far side of the pool, hurrying toward the main house. It’s Sunny. But it can’t be. As I watch, she stops and turns. She’s wearing a maxi-length green sundress, large sunglasses, and a sparkling tennis necklace. It’s her outfit, it’s her look. It’s her. Oh my God.
“Sunny?” I say in a whisper. I swallow as fear wells up in my throat. I stand and hold on to the back of the lounge chair to keep from falling. This can’t be happening, but it is. This is what I get for what I did. Maybe this is what I deserve. Ghosts return for revenge. She’s come for me.
She stops walking and turns and looks at me. I’m shaking all over. Will she suddenly charge me, float across the pool and grab me, hold me under the water until I drown? Impossible scenarios rush through my head. But instead of coming toward me, she turns away and hurries toward the house. Where is she going? What is she going to do to me?
I’ve never felt so startled and disoriented. Do I follow Sunny, ask her to forgive me, or do I simply pretend she isn’t here, that she doesn’t know everything? What would she do to me if I chased her? What can ghosts do to the person who murdered them?
