They might also uncover a dark underbelly to the shiny upper-crust façade that not even the Devines will be able to deny.
And I’ll go home knowing that no matter how huge her house is or how high she ranked at the academy, this Elodie’s life wasn’t any less fucked up than mine.
Eleven
Elodie
“Oh!” Aunt Daphne says when I walk into the kitchen to grab my breakfast. “That’s an interesting change.”
I reach toward my hair with a trace of self-consciousness but catch my hand halfway there. Pulling out one of the neglected hair color boxes Other Elodie stashed under the sink was an impulse last night, but I still liked the results in the mirror this morning.
The purple dye only gave the natural mahogany strands a bit of a burgundy tint. The lighter brown highlights weave through them in a deep but vibrant violet.
The color brings out the green in my muddied eyes and the golden glow in my skin, which I’ve refused to cover even slightly with Other Elodie’s powders this morning. And it coordinates with the indigo in the school uniform. Even my doppelganger might have approved of the new look.
It’s not up to her, though. It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks of me. I’m going to own this life and get to the bottom of the mess she made of it, no dithering around. And then I’ll be gone.
My matches, the ones who actually care about me, are waiting back home.
Daphne laughs as if self-conscious of her own reaction and beams at me. “It looks nice. Very striking, but it suits you.”
Maybe she also likes that it’ll help stop her from thinking I’m actually the niece she remembers.
Dad has looked over from where he was adding cream to his coffee at the other end of the island and gives me a softer but warmer smile. “It does. Nothing wrong with experimenting. Sometimes it’s good to take a step out of your comfort zone.”
My heart does the pitter-patter thing that always happens when I meet Dad’s eyes. It’s going to take more than two days before I’m used to having him back from the dead.
I shouldn’t get used to it. I only have him on loan.
“That’s what I thought,” I say, and grab the mug of coffee that’s waiting for me. I gulp it down black, the way I prefer.
Daphne’s eyelid twitches, probably because she coached me this weekend on many facts including that Other Elodie loaded her coffee with cream and sugar.
No, thank you, I’m not ruining this sharp bitterness with any garbage.
Dad doesn’t blink, and his sister recovers quickly. “You know, you should wear that diamond-and-amethyst tennis bracelet we got in Monaco a few years back. It’ll coordinate so well. And it can be good to remind people what kind of a family you come from too.”
She winks as if she’s mostly kidding, but we both know that could be a smart strategy for other reasons. Flaunting theDevines’ wealth might provoke whoever wanted to whack my double.
I am looking to get answers ASAP. So after my hasty breakfast, I dash upstairs to check the jewelry cabinet in the walk-in closet.
Other Elodie owned dozens of bracelets and plenty with diamonds, but I can’t find a single one with purple stones. It isn’t in the drawers of her vanity either, where she’s left several pieces I assume she wore more frequently.
Who knows how many other places she might have stashed her collection around her set of rooms? I’ve got to get going.
I tuck my hand into my blazer’s pockets to confirm I’ve still got the little paring knife and hustle down to the waiting car.
My change in style does more than just remind myself that I’m stillmeand that I can handle whoever killed my doppelganger. When I amble onto the green where Other Elodie’s pack of friends have already clustered, Cadance does a double take. Mia’s eyes widen.
Madison lets out a low whistle. “You should have warned us, Elle. Friends don’t let friends find out about the new style at the same time as the rabble.”
Stella simply gives me a considering look. “You can pull it off. Why not?”
Cadance clicks her tongue. “It’s really not fair how well it works with your face. I can’t believe you keep that perfect tan forever.”
Mia giggles and pats my arm. “She’s got her Mediterranean coloring. Gotta envy it.”
I ignore the prickle of irritation at hearing my mom’s part in my genetics erased. It’s probably not even their fault—I doubt Other Elodie ever mentioned her background. She might even have outright lied.
