Page 106 of The Life She Had

I brush away the tears. “She knew.”

“Knew...?”

“She knew the imposter wasn’t me. She was using Celeste to nurse her back to health so she’d be well enough to track me down. But she ran out of time.”

He puts one arm around me as he bends in a hug.

I lean against him for a second. Then I straighten and say, “Okay, let’s turn back the clock. Find out what she knew and when she knew it.”

He squeezes my shoulder and returns to the coffee as I flip backward and begin reading. By the time I finish, I have a half-cold cup of coffee at my elbow. He’s finished his, and he hasn’t said a word. He just sat with me as I read.

Finally, I shut the diary, take a long hit of the lukewarm brew and say, “She knew Liam was after the treasure. She never trusted him, but like the imposter, he was useful. She did, unfortunately, trust him enough to send him looking for me a year ago. She figured if she dangled the carrot of the treasure—implying she had money—he’d dance to her tune.”

“And then the imposter showed up.”

“Mmm, not exactly. Liam brought her.”

“What?”

I open the diary and point out the passage. “Liam brought the imposter and passed her off as me.”

Tom thuds back in his chair. “Okay, I did not see that one coming.” When he catches my expression, he peers at me. “You did?”

I shrug. “I considered it. You said someone else had been looking for me. If Gran wanted to track me down, it’d make sense for her to hire Liam. As a lawyer, he’d have investigators.”

“So he does a half-assed job and then passes off his girlfriend as you?”

“I’m not sure. Did he just happen to be dating a woman who resembles me? Who also didn’t mind giving up her own identity—her home, her livelihood, her life—to help him with this scheme? Maeve thought there was more to it. She got the feeling Celeste was being forced into it, that Liam held something over her. That’s why Gran didn’t send the imposter packing. She felt sorry for her. Didn’t keep her from using her and, I suspect, not being very nice to her, but she let her stay.”

When Tom doesn’t respond, I say, “You disagree?”

“I think Maeve saw what she wanted to see. What was convenient to see. She was in rough shape, and if this woman was willing to play nursemaid?” He shrugs. “It helped if she could tell herself the imposter wasn’t a bad person.” He glances at me. “Did her opinion ever change?”

“No. If Celeste did anything, Maeve never suspected it. From this, I know it wasn’t a sudden death. Gran was failing, and she accepted that, never questioned that it might not be a natural end.” I flip pages. “I do get a couple of references, though, to her grumbling about Celeste making her take her medication.”

“Ah-ha.”

“However, Liam said that Gran hated taking her medication. Was this the imposter pressing too much medication on her? Or just insisting she take exactly what she was supposed to take?”

“Dr. Hoover will know more.” Tom checks his watch. “We can get ready to head over there.”

Celeste

I can’t sleep. At one point, I think I hear someone in the house, but when I finally convince myself to get up, it’s empty with the doors locked. It’s nearly morning before I fall to sleep, and it only lasts long enough for me to tumble into the nightmare about Jasmine. Except this time, I’m not at home being questioned by the police. I’m in Starbucks, listening to my friends tricking her as I text with Aaron.

As we’re leaving the coffee shop, I jolt awake in a cold sweat, my heart hammering. I hover there, hands wrapped in the sheets as I think back to the dream. Why did that part make me jump up in a panic? Was there something I’ve missed? Some blocked memory where—I don’t know—maybe I’m the one who suggested killing Jasmine? I know there isn’t. I stayed out of their bullying. I didn’t like it, so I didn’t participate, and there is zero chance that I’ve edited those memories. I was never that kind of person.

Wasnever that person, but I am now? Have I become her?

I killed Liam, didn’t I?

That was an accident. Yes, I wanted to kill him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

So why did that part of the dream leave me in a cold sweat? I was getting into the car and asking them to drop me off before they went to pull their stunt with Jasmine. I’d honestly thought “a stunt” was all they planned. Not murder. Never murder.

And did that make it okay?

This whispering voice doesn’t sound like my mother’s or Aaron’s. It sounds like someone very different.

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