Harris.
Not Peter.
“N-No,” I choke out. “This can’t be?—”
I lunge past him and crash over the trash bag on the floor to the other man leaning against the doorframe. He doesn’t put up a fight when I grab the bottom of the mask and rip it from his face. Green eyes stare back at me as long black hair spills out from underneath.
A stranger.
Not Peter.
That means…
Oh, God, that means…
“This is Adam, by the way,” Harris remarks. “Since you didn’t know who he was. Did you never care to ask or did you simply forget because you’re so fucking self-absorbed, Zirconia? It’s all about you and what you want and what you can do and whatyouthink. You, you, you!”
I can’t breathe.
I can’t!
My chest tightens tenfold and despite my parted lips, no air gets past the back of my throat.
Harris is here.
He’s here.
And Peter’s not.
Pain cuts through my gut and hot bile starts crawling up my throat. I stumble away from Adam and make it to the threadbare couch just in time for the bile to reach my tongue. Retching over the couch, Harris’ groan of disgust reaches my ears.
“I think she’s finally worked it out. Have you? God, what a fucking drama show. In case it wasn’t obvious, Peter and I swapped masks. Surprisingly easy to persuade him because he always thought my mask was cooler. I just wanted to be in one of the unassuming masks in case the cops came looking, and if he took the heat?” Harris raises both hands and laughs. “More fool him, I guess.”
Bile chokes me, tangling with my desperately weak gasps for air. A pit’s opening up inside me and my stomach plummets out ofmy ass when I lift my head and glare at him, tears clinging to my eyelashes.
“You swapped masks?” I croak. “You fucking coward! You let him take that mask because you didn’t want the heat?”
“Duh!” Harris rolls his eyes. “Pretty fucking obvious, don’t you think? Why would I keep wearing the most obvious one when I could pawn it off on someone as dumb as your brother?”
“Don’t!” I snap, curling both my hands into fists as the rawness in my throat sweeps down through my body. It’s like I’m being carved up on the inside until there’s nothing left.
“Oh, that’s right.” Harris touches one finger to his chin. “You just told me I’m dead. But I’m here, so does that mean… your brother is dead?”
A cold dread washes over my shoulders as Harris closes in on me.
“You killed your own brother?” His bark of laughter is followed by a scoff from Adam in the background. “That’s fucking comedy gold, oh, my God.” He brings both hands to his chest. “Did you kill him thinking he was me?”
That night flashes back into my mind like a strike of lightning. Harris— no, Peter’s panic with the gun, him yelling at me and that moment on the edge of the cliff where he was ready to shoot me. He was going to kill me.
My own brother.
It makes no sense.
“No,” I croak out. “I didn’t kill him, I didn’t.”
“I’d be sad, really,” Harris continues lazily, walking until he’s right in front of me. “But you see, Peter and I were going to be rich. Blindingly so. And with him gone, then I guess that fortune is all mine now, so really, doll, you did me a favor.”
“Uh, excuse me,” Adam pipes up from the doorway. “What about me?”
