Page 82 of My Twin Sister

“How did you make her think it was me? Morgan might not have noticed back then but Brooke would have noticed. My face is bruised and she saw me earlier that day. She would have notice.”

Geny almost laughs. I want to smack her.

“It was dark, Grace. I could have been wearing makeup. It’s not like she was looking out for your sister to be pretending to be you. She didn’t even notice.”

My chest burns and I have to fight back the anger. “And then what?”

I don’t want to know but I have to. Brooke deserves the truth about what happened to her to be out. The least I can do is hear it.

“I drugged her on the walk there. I gave her a thermos of hot chocolate and asked her to walk with me. I put my sleeping meds in it.”

I feel tears trail beneath my chin. “And then you buried her?”

She nods again. “I dug a hole while she slept. I don’t think she woke up before she drowned.”

There she goes again. Trying to make it better somehow. I turn away from her. I cover my face with my hands and try with all my strength not to fall apart.

All this time, I thought it all had to be connected. Everything led to Frank and it all made sense. Frank was a monster and monsters do monstrous things. But when it comes down to it, he was a very specific kind of monster. His crime was his taste for young girls. And the one time he tried to avoid getting caught was because my sister made him think I was set on ruining his life.

It still makes him capable of killing my dad for the same reason. But I’ll never know because Geny shot him in the chest.

My sister is a murderer.

Jealousy made her do awful things. My entire image of her has shattered. She couldn’t stand me having any other close friends, so she killed anyone I ever got close to. And then she indirectly tried to have me taken out of the picture so she could have Wyatt.

Sirens in the distance bring me back to the present moment. They mix with Tina’s shrieks from upstairs. Geny pushes away from Wyatt and her terrified eyes meet with mine.

“Go. Go back to my house. You were there all night. You never left. Stay with my boys.”

I shake my head, but she steps toward me and holds my face in her hands.

“I killed three people, Grace. Let me pay for it. I’ve taken enough from you.”

Her hand finds mine. Despite the anger, hurt, and distrust I have for her, I squeeze her fingers in mine.

“I love you,” I say.

She smiles sadly. “I love you, Grace. Run.”

I glance at Wyatt, and he nods for me to go. And so I go. I run through the back door, and I don’t stop until I reach Geny and Wyatt’s house. I run like I’m back in high school trying to win the state championship. I run like I’m nineteen and I’m afraid for my life. I run and I leave my sister behind. Again.

Forty-Six: Grace

One year later

I think about that night all the time. I dream about it. How I could have missed so many things and how I ran when my sister told me to go. I still haven’t forgiven her for all she did. She took the lives of two beautiful young women, women who deserve to be here, because she was jealous. I try to remind myself that she wasn’t mentally stable, but it only takes the sharpest edges off my anger.

It’s colder this October than it was last year. I’m glad I brought my thicker coat. I tighten my arms around my torso and stare out at the white-capped waves. Just a few more minutes and I’ll go home. This beach holds so many memories, both wonderful and horrible. It was the place my two friends lost their lives. It was the place I got a second chance. All at the hands of my sister.

She was arrested that night after confessing to shooting Frank and killing both Morgan and Brooke O’Neil. She pleaded guilty and will not have a trial. Her history of mental instability was taken into consideration. Wyatt fought to have her put into a psychiatric hospital instead of a prison and, eventually, the state agreed with him. She’ll be there, getting help and being medicated, for the foreseeable future. Maybe one day they’ll even let her come home.

I asked Wyatt what he’ll do if that happens, if he’ll let her come home.

“Of course,” he said. “For better and for worse. In sickness and in health.”

His answer made me proud to know someone like him. And guilty that I don’t think Geny deserves it. Guilty about my own avoidance of my sister.

I’ll talk to her again one day. She’s my other half, no matter what she’s done. But I’ll do it in my own time. After the dust settles from all the pain she’s caused. When the wounds scab over and I don’t get visits from the O’Neil girls in my dreams anymore. Maybe once that night stops replaying in my head every time I have a quiet moment.