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Right. “I’d like to be here at home, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Sure.” She sets a recorder on the coffee table and motions for me to sit on the couch.
The sooner I get done with this, the sooner they can leave.
Except there’s a dead body in the kitchen. They might not let us stay here. Peter confessed, and the police believe him that it was because Jane would’ve killed me.
My own sister wanted me dead.
That realization is harder to swallow than my parents lying about my adoption for over forty years.
But now I’m safe. My family is safe. Jane won’t be impersonating me or tricking me anymore.
At some point while I’m filling out the paperwork, the lights come back on. I almost don’t recognize my own house. After everything that went down tonight, I’m not sure this house will ever feel the same again.
Someone I let in tried to kill me.
Peter comes over to me and wraps his arms around me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure.”
“It’s all over.”
“Somehow it doesn’t feel that way.”
He kisses my cheek. “We’re together, and that’s all that matters.”
“I really thought you had us confused back there.”
“Never. You said the code phrase David and I have always used. Besides, I haven’t believed her since the moment I figured out she wasn’t you.”
A terrifying thought hits me. If I hadn’t said “I, uh, think we have trouble,” could it be me lying on the kitchen floor instead of Jane? But I shake my head to push that thought away. I’m still here. That’s all that matters.
“Is she really dead?” I ask.
“As a doornail.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. It really is over.
ChapterFifty
Peter holds up his wine glass. “To Angelina!”
My face warms. “It isn’t all about me. To all of us. To family!”
“To family!” the others repeat, and we clink our glasses together and drink. Peter, David, Claire, and I all have wine glasses, and the kids all have sparkling cider.
We’re all outside in David and Claire’s backyard. It’s the last warm day of the season, as the weather is supposed to take a drastic change for the worse tomorrow morning. We have a lot to celebrate.
I adjust my new sweater, tugging on the neck. I’m still not used to wearing such stylish clothes, but I gave into Lyra’s offer to be my personal stylist. She did a great job and picked out items that aren’t too young for me but also don’t make me look like a schoolmarm. In fact, Peter’s eyes light up every time he sees me in a new outfit.
He definitely didn’t need to know his ex picked out most of my wardrobe.
I also burned that purple tank top. We had a storm last week and Peter made a fire in the fireplace. That was when I said goodbye to the shirt everyone hates but didn’t have the heart to tell me. It didn’t burn like I’d hoped, but the flames did a good enough job. And I enjoyed watching the purple material smoke and disintegrate.
Claire comes over and gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re safe. I can’t believe your twin wanted you dead.”
I set my glass down and give her a big hug. “I can’t thank you enough for letting David and me pretend to have an affair.”
