Page 61 of My Twin Sister

I never would have forgiven myself. If it were her, it would have meant it was my fault. She knows something too dangerous to know, and I would have gotten her killed.

But it’s not her. She’s okay and alive and in my arms. Breathing and okay.

“It’s okay,” she says. “I’m okay.”

“I love you,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about everything. I thought I lost you.”

“You didn’t lose me,” Geny says. She smooths my hair down my head. “I’m right here.”

I’m still shaking. I can’t seem to stop. The bitter-cold wind coming off the lake doesn’t help. I loosen my grip on Geny. When I see her face, her eyes are red. My brain is slowly starting to process again. I look around. People are crying, more upset than before.

“What happened?” I ask. “Why are you here?”

“Geny?” Frank shouts from the other side of the caution tape. Geny looks up. “We need you over here for a statement.”

“I’m coming,” she says.

I look at her confused.

“I found her,” Geny says. “It’s Brooke O’Neil.”

Thirty-Six: Geny

Grace’s reaction at the beach stirs up a storm of guilt in me. The words I said to her the other night, the anger and resentment. The jealousy. All the things I’ve done. I should have texted her back yesterday. I wanted her to feel bad for the things she said, but I said awful things too. And now she knows I know about Frank.

She doesn’t know what else I know. How I followed her to Murphy’s house last night. How I used to follow her all the time. She thought she was sly. Discreet. She had Wyatt, the perfect guy who adored her, and she betrayed him in the biggest way. She was a character in a teen drama, and I hated her for a time.

But only for a while.

Then she was gone, and I couldn’t tell her that I didn’t hate her anymore or that I was sorry for the things I’d done. I couldn’t tell her anything ever again.

Then I got a second chance.

Against all odds, she came back. And what did I do? I let my fears and insecurities tear me apart just like I did eighteen years ago. What is wrong with me?

I keep my eyes on her from the other side of the caution tape as I talk to Frank. Murphy has his hands on her shoulders, and I wish we weren’t in this situation. I wish we were kids again, lying in our beds so she could tell me whether she likes this guy, and we could laugh about kissing and embarrassing stories. Instead, we’re standing on a beach with another dead body.

“Start from the beginning,” he says.

I sigh. “Like I said, I just came here this morning for some quiet time to myself. There’s been a lot going on. As you know. And I saw her then. I called right away.”

“Did you see anyone else? Or any sign of anyone else? Footprints, car tracks . . .”

“No.” I shake my head. “Nothing I noticed.”

He nods solemnly.

“Can I go home?” I ask.

“Yeah, yeah. Go. I’ll let you know if I need anything else from you. Thanks, Geny.”

I go back to Grace, and our hands interlace. She’s still trembling. Meanwhile, I’m numb.

“Come back to the house with me? Please?” I ask my sister.

“Sure. Of course,” she says. Then she looks up at Murphy. “Thank you for driving me. I’ll text you, okay?”

He nods and squeezes her arm as a goodbye. Images of last night flash in my mind. The two of them pressed together, illuminated in the glowing window. The front door that Murphy forgot to lock, giving me access to his house and my sister’s phone. I wanted to know who she’s always slipping away to talk to. But of course, the number wasn’t saved. I typed it into my own phone to check into later.