Page 65

65

KRISTA

“This apartment could be perfect,” Amanda is saying.

I am so utterly bored. I am sick of looking at apartments with Amanda and pretending to be excited about them when I know I will never live in any of them. I recognize that she doesn’t know that, but I just don’t care.

Where is Blake? Why isn’t he home yet? Did he die on the way back?

“It’s a walk-up but only on the second floor,” she says. “And it’s pretty close to the subway line.”

“Let’s put it in the Maybe pile.”

“Do you like it better than the apartment in Park Slope?”

I don’t remember the other apartment, but she is looking at me expectantly, so I say, “Yes. This one is definitely better.”

“Okay.” She nods thoughtfully. “By the way, I’m so glad we’re doing this together, Krista. On my own, I’m not sure I could even find a place to live.”

I glance down at my watch, then back up at her. “I’m happy to be there for you, Amanda.”

She flashes me an uncomfortable smile. “You shouldn’t call me that.”

“Why not?” I’m trying to mask my irritation, but I’m failing. “It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but…” She squirms. “If anyone found out my real name, it would be bad. Really bad.”

I know that, of course, because I’m not an idiot. “I don’t blame you. Whitney is a nice name.”

“You think?” She makes a face. “I hate it, actually. It’s like the name of some bitchy popular girl in high school who torments the girls who aren’t as pretty as she is. You know the type, right?”

What does that mean? “I guess so…”

“Anyway, it definitely doesn’t feel like me.”

It’s not enough that she stole my name, but she doesn’t even like it? The nerve of this girl! I would love to take my time doing what I want to do to her like I did with Stacie, but I can’t. It’s got to happen fast, right when Blake gets home.

Where is he anyway?

“I would do anything to get my old identity back,” she sighs, leaning back into the cushions.

“What if you had a choice?”

She puts down her phone and looks at me curiously. “A choice?”

“Right. What if somebody said that you could either get your old identity back or have your mother back, alive and well?”

She gives me a funny look. “I’d want my mother. Obviously.”

That’s not the decision I would make. If I had a choice between getting to be Whitney again and never seeing my mother again, it would be an easy choice. When there is a choice, I always choose myself. I don’t care to see my mother again anyway. We never got along, especially after Joey broke his arm. She hated me after that.

“It all just sounds a little ungrateful,” I say.

She frowns. “Ungrateful?”

“Yes. Here you are, using somebody else’s name, and you don’t even want it. It’s an inconvenience to you.” I give her a pointed look. “A lot of people would be thrilled with what you’ve been given, you know.”

Amanda squirms on the sofa. “You know,” she says, “I’m just thinking…we’re having such a hard time agreeing on a place…maybe it’s not such a great idea for the two of us to live together.”

“No?”

“I mean, I like you and all,” she says quickly.

Yeah, right.

“But given all the stuff with Blake, maybe it’s not such a great idea.”

Stuff with Blake? What is she talking about? My heart ratchets up a notch. “Did you sleep with him?” I blurt out. If she slept with him, I’m going for the face. I don’t care about the time crunch.

“What? No!” Her eyes fly wide open, but I’m not sure if it’s because I caught her or just surprised her. “I just meant that he and I didn’t get along. I would never…” She grabs her purse from the floor and drops her phone back into it. “Look, maybe I should just get going.”

She stands up from the sofa, and I rise to my feet as well. She wants to leave, but I can’t let her. It’s now or never. I reach for the magazines on the coffee table and wrap my fingers around the handle of the knife.

And that’s when the doorbell rings.

Amanda’s attention is distracted by the sound of the chimes. Which makes it that much easier to jam the blade of the knife deep into her belly.