“Emma?” An uncertain voice spoke softly to her left. She turned to see Alex Stokes, a full head shorter than Emma and pixie-shaped, wearing a black slip-dress and Doc Martens laced halfway up.
Emma’s face lit up. “Alex!”
Alex hurried forward and threw her arms around her. “I knew you didn’t do it,” she said, her voice muffled against Emma’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry I showed the police those texts. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Emma said. “They would have gotten them eventually. I’m just sorry you got pulled into the whole thing. And I’m so, so sorry for lying to you.”
Alex pulled away from the hug to stare up at her with round, sympathetic eyes. “It sounds like it was . . . complicated.”
“Yeah,” Emma murmured. She bit her lip. “I’m not ready to talk about the whole thing yet. But I promise, I’ll tell you everything as soon as I am.”
“I’ll be here,” Alex said, squeezing her elbow.
The doors to the church opened again, and the entire Lying Game clique stepped out together. Their eyes were red, but they emerged with an It Girl dignity that would have made Sutton proud. Charlotte’s lips were painted Bitch Queen Red, and Madeline lifted her chin with prima ballerina hauteur. Lili and Gabby were arm in arm, Lili in lace tights and black eyeliner, Gabby in a pearl necklace and matching earrings. Laurel was with them, too, her honey-blonde hair swept back from her face, an embroidered handkerchief clutched in one hand.
Alex glanced at the clique, then back at Emma. “They seem, uh, nice.”
A grin broke across Emma’s face. “They’re not. But it’s okay. They’re actually pretty amazing.”
Charlotte was the first to meet Emma’s eyes. She came slowly down the steps to where Emma stood, the other girls trailing behind her. Laurel gave her an uncertain smile, but the others’ faces were stony. Next to her Alex shifted her weight.
After a long moment, Charlotte held out her hand to Emma.
“We haven’t officially met,” she said softly. “I’m Charlotte Chamberlain. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Emma swallowed. Then she took Charlotte’s hand in hers. The other girl’s palm was warm and soft. She held it for a moment, and then she pulled Charlotte toward her into a hug.
“I’m so sorry, Char,” she whispered. Charlotte trembled in her grip, then hugged her fiercely back.
“We’re sorry we didn’t give you a chance to explain,” Madeline said, throwing her arms around Emma and Charlotte. Emma could feel both girls crying again.
“I don’t blame you,” she said. “Sutton was your best friend. And I lied to you for months.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have a choice,” Charlotte sniffled. “I can’t believe you were trying to solve her murder all on your own.”
“I can’t believe Ethan—” Lili started, but Laurel shot her a dirty look.
“Too soon,” she hissed.
After a long moment, the girls broke apart awkwardly. Emma knew it was strange for them. She’d gotten to know them, but they didn’t know her at all. Would they even like someone like Emma? She was so different from Sutton. But in spite of everything, she’d had fun with the Lying Game girls. They’d made her take risks she’d never have taken in her old life, and given her courage in a time when she’d needed it most. She liked to think that she’d rubbed off on them, too, a little. Since she’d stepped into Sutton’s life, the clique had become a little warmer and more accepting of one another.
“This is my friend Alex. From Henderson,” she said, and Alex nodded slowly. Emma tensed a little—this worlds-colliding moment felt weird. Alex was the kind of girl the Lying Game had loved to punk. And Sutton’s friends were the kind of girls Alex used to call “fashion victims” and “trend whores.”
Lili looked Alex up and down. “I love your boots,” she said. “I had a pair of knee-highs, but the dog ate them.”
“That sucks,” Alex said. Lili nodded seriously.
“Henderson is near Las Vegas, right?” Charlotte asked. “We went there once, last summer, on a Lying Game trip. Sutton talked her way into getting us the Presidential Suite at the Bellagio.” She smiled sadly. “It must be fun living there. There’s so much to do.”
“It’s okay,” Alex said. “Not as much fun without Emma.”
“So . . . will you stay in Tucson, now that this is all over?” Madeline asked Emma tentatively, and she nodded.
“I hope so. The Mercers asked me to live with them.” She glanced at Alex. “I’ll miss you so much, but I’ve never had family before. I need to do this.”
“I know,” Alex said. “I get it. Besides, it’s not like you’re that far from me. Maybe you’ll take another Lying Game trip soon, and come visit.” She struggled a little over the name of their clique, but no one else seemed to notice. Emma smiled.
Charlotte exchanged a glance with Madeline, who gave a tiny nod. “Speaking of Lying Game, we were thinking sleepover, this weekend. Would you want to come?”
Emma flushed with pleasure. “I’d love to.” She paused, then went on. “There’s one thing I won’t do, though.”
Madeline cocked her head curiously, but Laurel looked like she knew what Emma was about to say.
“No more pranks. I can’t do it anymore.”
The girls were silent for a long moment. Charlotte looked down at her black Jimmy Choos, and Madeline hugged herself. Behind them, the Twitter Twins’ jaws had dropped in shock. Alex just raised an eyebrow questioningly. But Laurel nodded.
“I’m with Emma on this,” she said. “It’s hurt too many people. And my snuff film prank was the one that Ethan used to . . . you know . . .” She trailed off.
Madeline took a deep breath. “You’re right. Maybe it’s time to be just boring old popular girls for once. We are fabulous enough not to need a gimmick, you know.”
Charlotte swept her hair behind her shoulder. “I’ve been thinking it’s time for a while now. We’re not kids anymore.”
Emma glanced at Lili and Gabby, who looked mutinous. Lili leaned in to whisper something in Gabby’s ear, and Gabby nodded. They had only gotten into the club a few months ago and clearly weren’t happy to be done with it so soon.
Oh, well. The Twitter Twins could go rogue, as long as they didn’t prank Emma.
“Anyway, we don’t have time for pranks right now,” Charlotte said. “I need to find a new swimsuit for Barbados. I can’t just sit in a cover-up the whole time if I’m going to get any color.” She smiled shyly. “Emma, you’re still invited if you want to come. A little beach, booze, and boys might be just what the doctor ordered to recover from . . . from all this.” She gestured helplessly around. Emma patted her shoulder gratefully, truly touched.
“Thanks, Char. But I need to spend this Christmas with my family.” She met Laurel’s eye, and they both smiled.
“More for us,” Madeline said brightly. “We’ll bring you back some rum.”
Emma laughed. Suddenly, the sun on her face and the December breeze playing against her bare legs felt almost heavenly.
I watched my friends comforting each other, their eyes shining with tears, their smiles tentative in the winter sun. I knew how much they’d miss me—that they’d all carry that sorrow for a long time, deep in their hearts. But they would be all right. They would live, and thrive, and remember me with love, and eventually, they would let go of me, the way the living always had to let go of the dead.
Then I saw something that wrenched my heart in my chest.
Thayer, hands in his pockets, lingered off to the side. Alone. And watching Emma.
36
YOURS FOREVER
Thayer stood slightly apart from the crowd, leaning against the low white wall that surrounded the church’s property. He’d come in a perfectly tailored Burberry sport coat and slacks, no tie. His dark hair fell down over one eye, and his hands were shoved deep in his pockets. When he saw Emma approach, he raised his hand a little.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” she replied. Silence drifted down between them. She watched Garrett join Celeste and Louisa, wiping tears from his eyes. Grandma Mercer had stepped down from the church, Mr. Mercer at her arm. Laurel walked swiftly to her side and took her other arm, murmuring in her ear.
A few feet from Emma and Thayer, a pair of mourning doves perched together in a cactus. They cooed softly at each other, back and forth, like they were deep in conversation.
“How is it the thorns don’t hurt them?” Thayer asked abruptly.
Emma cocked her head questioningly. He nodded at the birds.
“I guess because they’re so light,” Emma said. She swallowed, trying to push down the lump in her throat. “Thayer, I am so, so sorry.”
Slowly he drew his gaze toward her. His hazel eyes were pained but clear. “I’m not mad at you, Emma.” He gazed down into her face for a long moment, then looked quickly away. “It’s just . . . You look just like her. Even knowing everything, there’s a part of me that wants to kiss you.”
“But it’d be all wrong,” Emma said. She smiled sadly. “I’m not Sutton. I wasn’t even a very good stand-in.”
He laughed softly, one cheek’s perfect dimple revealing itself. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re not her. But you’re pretty amazing.”
He drew his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of computer paper. As soon as I saw it, I knew what it was. A tendril of electricity connected me to that letter.
“The cops gave me this,” he said, staring down at the note. “They found it on her phone. I guess Ethan must have tried to delete it, but their forensics guy retrieved it from the SD card. She wrote it, that night in the canyon, and saved it as a draft in our secret e-mail account. I think—I think she wouldn’t mind if you read it.”
Emma’s throat felt constricted as she took the note in her hands. Carefully, she unfolded it.
Dear Thayer,
I am still processing everything that’s happened to me tonight. I feel like my entire world has been turned upside down. But all this uncertainty has made one thing clear: I love you. I love you so crazy much, Thayer, and I want to be with you.
I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you. I don’t want it to be that way anymore. Wherever you’ve been, I don’t care. I’m not mad. You can tell me when you’re ready to—but it won’t make any difference to me. You’re the only one for me. I know this kind of love comes along once in a lifetime. I’m not going to let it go.
Yours forever,
Sutton
Tears welled up in Emma’s eyes. She wiped one away quickly before it could fall and stain the note. She looked up to see Thayer, a haunted, aching look in his hazel eyes.
“All those weeks when she suddenly wasn’t e-mailing me anymore, I was so confused,” he said, his voice breaking. “I thought we were over. I thought that the things I said to her that night in the canyon had made her hate me. And all that time, she was . . . gone.”
