Page 56

CHAPTER

FORTY

SARAH

Apart from Mom’s car, the driveway’s empty.

That’s a good sign. This is the first time Erin’s broken Dad’s rules, so paranoia is to be expected.

Still, I gingerly push the door open, psyching myself up for what I might face on the other side.

Was she right about Dad returning from his business trip early?

If he confronted her, does he know that we switched places?

Will he be waiting to interrogate me? Instead of facing the firing squad, the house is quiet.

Too quiet. Somehow, that makes me more nervous.

I kick off my boots. My feet ache after hiking halfway down the mountain to meet a cab because the driver was too superstitious to venture up the highway to hell. On the drive, I called Erin multiple times, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Erin?” I shout. “Erin? Are you home?”

Someone flicks the hallway light on.

“What is it, honey?” Mom calls. She hovers at the top of the stairs in a robe with her hair wrapped around giant rollers. “Do you know what time it is? It’s too late to be shouting.”

“Where’s Dad?” I ask.

She yawns. “He’s at a conference, remember? Go to bed, Sarah. It’s late.”

I bound up the stairs, taking two at a time. I push past her and race to Erin’s room. Her bed hasn’t been slept in. The curtains are open. An unfinished essay lies on an impeccably tidy desk alongside neatly folded laundry waiting to be put away.

I call Erin again.

Nothing.

Where is she?

The pit of dread in my stomach intensifies, unable to shake the feeling that something is wrong. Very wrong.

“Mom, he has her!” I announce, running into her bedroom, where Mom’s busy applying a fresh layer of anti-wrinkle cream. “He has Erin!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Dad’s got Erin,” I say, tripping on my words because I’m speaking so fast. “She was pretending to be me. Something bad has happened. We need to call the police. We have to look for her!”

“Your father’s in Washington, and Erin’s probably reading somewhere.” Mom shakes her head and stifles a yawn. “You’ve been drinking again, haven’t you? Your father won’t be happy if he finds out. Go to bed and sleep it off.”

“Erin’s not here. Her bed’s empty,” I say. “Check for yourself, if you don’t believe me.”

“Enough with your ridiculous stories!” She holds up a finger to silence me, then reaches for her sleeping pills. “Now, shoo! Not everything is about you, you know. Have you seen my crow’s feet lately? I need my beauty sleep.”

I sigh in exasperation and stomp out. It looks like I’m in this alone.

I return to Erin’s room and sit on her bed, surrounded by her childhood plushies. I watch the clock on her wall. The hands tick on; seconds stretch into minutes, then into an hour. I hit redial again and again. Still no answer.

Where could they go at four a.m.? Has he locked Erin in Sunnycrest? Guilt gnaws at my insides. Erin’s fragile. She’s not like me. Taking her to that godforsaken cell will traumatize her for life, and it’ll be my fault for manipulating her into switching places.

Suddenly, a noise downstairs draws my attention. I sneak out, pressing my back against the wall, and tiptoe down the stairs. I stay in the shadows, watching Dad slink in. Alone.

I fumble around for my phone and call Erin.

Ringing echoes through the hall, and I gasp as Dad fishes her cell phone out of his pocket. If he has it, where is she? Panic takes over, and I’m about to dial 911 when the phone slips from my sweaty fingers. It hits the wooden step with a bang, and the screen cracks, blowing my cover.

Dad whirls around. “Erin?”

I only have one chance to escape.

I make a break for the front door, but I’m too slow.

Dad’s surprisingly fast. He grabs my arm and yanks me back, almost dislocating my shoulder.

I wrestle to free myself, sinking my fingernails into his skin. “What did you do to her?”

“Sarah?” Dad’s jaw drops in horror. All the color drains from his face like he’s seen a ghost. “But you’re…” His mouth opens and closes like a bewildered fish. “Where’s Erin?”

“You tell me,” I snarl.

“I don’t understand,” he mutters. “You were at a party…”

“Erin went to the party instead of me,” I say. “Remember that game we used to play when we were little? We swapped places. All Erin wanted was to have fun for a change, instead of staying here like a fucking prisoner. Where is she?”

“No, no!” Dad wobbles on his feet. His eyes mist over, and his face crumples in devastation, like his entire world has collapsed. “Not my Erin…”

“What did you do?” I demand. “Where’s Erin, Dad? Did you hurt her?”

His pained, guilty expression says it all.

“It can’t be,” he murmurs. “No… it’s not possible… my Erin can’t be…”

I stagger back, fighting the urge to throw up.

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” I whisper, daring to voice my worst fears. “You killed her.”

Dad’s entire demeanor changes in a flash, from a broken man into a monster. A new menacing determination crosses his features. He lunges at me again, grabbing my jacket, and searing me with a stare full of pure hatred.

“This is your fault.” His lips curl into a vicious sneer. “I did nothing, it is you who killed her!”

Even though the guys dropped hints that Dad did awful things to patients, I never thought he was capable of something like this…

“Let me go!” I scream. “Mom, help!”

“You’re not getting away with it this time,” he hisses. “I won’t let you.”

I push him and manage to knock him off-balance for a second. I seize the opportunity to grab a nearby vase and swing, aiming for his head, but I miss. It crashes to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces.

“No!” I yell as he throws me to the ground.

“My angel’s dead,” he hisses. “It should have been you.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I say bitterly.

He wraps his hands around my throat and squeezes.

“I won’t lose her,” he says, crushing my neck. “I won’t!”

“Magnus?” Mom calls down, causing us both to freeze. “Is that you?”

Mom turns on the light and stands at the top of the staircase, watching the scene unfold. Our eyes meet, and she freezes.

“Mom!” I croak. “Help me.”

She squeals in horror. “Magnus, what?—”

Dad abandons strangling me and grapples around for what looks to be a remote control in his jacket. He jams a red button, and Mom’s hysteria dissipates instantly. Her eyes glaze over, giving her a spaced-out appearance, like she’s taken a long drag on a joint.

“Go to bed, Jocelyn,” Dad orders.

“I’ll buy a new vase tomorrow. A blue one, maybe? Fresh flowers too.” Mom smiles serenely. “Yes, that’ll be perfect.” She blows me a kiss. “Sweet dreams, Sarah.”

What. The. Fuck?

“Mom, please…”

But she’s already gone.

This is it.

He’s going to kill me too.