I end the call before he can respond and just stand there for a moment, replaying our conversation. What we said and, maybe more importantly, what we didn’t say.
“Hey.”
I whirl around at the sound of the familiar voice, almost dropping my phone. Sophia is standing in front of me, her normally happy-go-lucky expression gravely serious. “Hi.” I try to smile at her, but the expression falls from my face almost instantly.
Her expression doesn’t change, either. “We need to talk.”
…
Peter might not have wanted text exchanges between us as potential evidence, but he clearly never considered that phone conversations in public spaces can be overheard. I’m a bundle of nerves while Sophia leads me back to the library, both of us silent. We walk through the back entrance, and she pulls me into a study room. The moment she has the door shut and locked, she’s on me.
“What’s going on?” Sophia’s voice is surprisingly stern. “What are you, some sort of undercover detective snooping around the school?”
“No, of course not!” My response is too quick. I sound like a liar even to my own ears. I don’t know if the exhaustionof living a double life finally breaks something in me, or if I was already too broken before I got here. Either way, I feel my defenses crumble under Sophia’s earnest stare. “More like I’m an … undercover sibling.”
I’m trembling. Full of immediate regret. I shouldn’t have said that. My chest is so tight, it’s hard for me to draw in air while Sophia studies me. Like,reallylooks at me. She narrows her eyes and tilts her head to the right, remaining silent for so long I feel as if I might scream just to make some noise.
“You’re Isla’s sister,” she finally says.
The panic swells inside me. “We don’t look anything alike.”
“It’s not about your face.” Sophia thrusts her index finger in my direction. “It’s about … you. And how you act. Like Isla.”
A tide of overwhelming emotion crashes over me and sends me straight into Sophia’s arms. I cling tightly, so grateful when she returns the hug. It’s such a huge fucking relief to have told her, to have someone at Wickham know who I really am. And while it’s also scary and huge and I’m not sure where to go from here, it’s just so damn comforting to acknowledge and embrace the connection I have to Isla.
She’s my baby sister. I’ve had to deny that fact since the moment I stepped off Peter’s plane. But I’ve spent years fighting the connection at home, too. Pretending Isla doesn’t exist. Mom would fall apart any time her other daughter was mentioned, to the point that I kept any of my thoughts or stories about Isla to myself. It became too painful to acknowledge our connection at all. But now that Sophia knows, I can beBillie Vale, Isla’s big sister, on this side of the world.
Still in secret, of course, but it feels like a move in the right direction.
“How did you end up here?” Sophia asks once I let her go.
I proceed to tell hereverything. My mouth is a fountain of facts and impressions and experiences as I try my best to remember every single detail about my discoveries from day one until now. When I mention Priya popping pills, Sophia finally interrupts.
“I fucking knew it. No one studies that much without some sort of illegal substance helping her along.”
I almost want to laugh, but it’s not funny. None of this is funny. And when I finally finish my story, I fall into a nearby chair and lean forward, hanging my head, completely spent.
Sophia rubs the space between my shoulder blades, trying to soothe me, which I appreciate. “What happens now?”
Lifting my head, I meet her gaze. “I don’t know. Are you going to tell your dad about Priya and Abigail?”
Her response is automatic. “No way. Everyone already believes I’m a snitch, but the truth is, I don’t care enough about any of these twats to actually get them in trouble. What would be the point?”
I feel bad for her. That our fellow students are so dismissive of her feelings. Like she’s not even a real person in their eyes, which is tragic. Sophia is one of the nicest girls I’ve ever known. “I’m sorry they don’t see you for who you really are. Because you are one of the best people I’ve met here. They’re all missing out on your greatness.”
“Aw, I’m touched.” Sophia ducks her head for a second before flashing me a knowing smile. “Are you saying I’m …better than Connor Wells?”
“Well … maybe the both of you are tied for first.” We laugh together and then both go quiet. Like, seriously quiet. Enough to make me nervous. “Are you … mad at me? For lying? I mean, you have every right to be. You’ve been so kind since my arrival. You even invited me into your home. I slept in your bed. I wore some of your clothes. I wore one of yourswimsuits.”
That feels like a level of intimacy that deserves the truth.
“It’s true that I do prefer to know the real identity of someonebeforewe share spandex.” Sophia’s droll voice and dancing gaze make me relax a little bit. Enough that I roll my eyes at her. “But Belinda, you’re out here trying to solve aliteralmurder. Wait—was I ever a suspect?”
I start laughing again. “You sound a little excited by the idea. Do youwantto be a suspect?”
“I guess not. As much as I want to be a certified baddie someday, murder is a bit rich for my blood. Though …”
Sophia goes quiet, and I send her a questioning look.
