Page 90 of Every Time I Go on Vacation, Someone Dies

“Why do you think that?” Allison asks.

“I saw it happen. She didn’t just stumble… I barely caught her.”

I start to tremble, feeling that floating feeling I had right before he gripped the fabric of my dress. What would’ve happened to me if he hadn’t been there? Would I have tumbled down those stairs like a stone, spinning? What parts of me would’ve been broken?

“We should call the police, then,” Allison says.

“The carbonara?” Shek says. “Is that necessary?”

“Carabinieri,” Harper says. “And yes. If someone tried to kill El, then we need to call them.”

“No,” Connor says. “We can’t do that.”

“I’m not putting Eleanor’s life in danger just because you did something illegal,” Oliver says. “And since this is your fault, you don’t get a say.”

“My fault?”

“Do you think someone mistook Eleanor for you?”

“Of course not, old boy.”

“Then think it through, old boy.”

Everyone catches up at the same time. “Someone tried to kill Eleanor,” Emily says.

“Isn’t that what I’ve been saying?”

“Someone wants to kill Connor and Eleanor?” Allison says.

“Or just Eleanor,” Shek mutters.

“Excuse me?” I say.

“Why would anyone want to kill Eleanor?” Oliver says, and I love him for it.

And though I assume he meant this as a rhetorical question, the silence is, well, telling.

“Harper might,” Guy says eventually.

“What?” That might be me or it might be Harper. Our voices are very alike, and I’m not in my right mind.

“You said it yourself in that NYT piece. Doesn’t she inherit everything if you die?”

“You said that?” Harper says as two spots of color bloom on her cheeks.

“She called you the prime suspect, I believe.”

“Harper, you know how flustered I get when I do those things. I just babble.”

“And accuse me of wanting you dead?”

“It wasn’t like that. Read it, you’ll see. I was joking.”

“Freudian slip,” Isabella says.

I shoot her a look. She doesn’t belong here and she should stay out of it.

“No. That’s not what it was at all.”