Chapter 5 The Funeral

Lisbon was a lie.

I knew it the second I landed at JFK and saw Marco, the wedding planner, waiting at baggage claim with two coffees and a black eye.

"Celeste?" he said, then saw my face. "Elise."

"You weren't in Lisbon," I said.

"And you weren't supposed to be here." He shoved one coffee at me. Chamomile tea. _My_ drink. "She told me to make sure you got on the plane. Said if you didn't run, you'd die."

I didn't drink it. "Where is she?"

"Funeral home." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "For you."

---

The casket was closed.

That was the first clue. The second was Dad, sobbing into a handkerchief that cost more than my rent. The third was the obituary in the program:

_Elise Marie Kaine, beloved daughter and sister. Died tragically in a car accident on her wedding night. She is survived by her sister, Celeste, and her husband, Damian Kaine._

I was standing in the back, in a hoodie and sunglasses, reading about my own death.

Celeste was at the pulpit. Not crying. She was never a good actress. "Elise was the good one," she said, voice shaking on cue. "She spent her life fixing my mistakes. Last night was no different."

Damian sat in the front row. Black suit. No expression. He hadn't spoken to police, according to the news. He'd just identified the body. _Burned beyond recognition. Dental records matched._

I'd never been to a dentist in New York.

Marco leaned in. "The car was yours. Registered in your name. Found at the bottom of the Hudson with a body in the driver's seat. Wearing your bridesmaid dress."

Celeste's bridesmaid dress. The one I took off to put on the wedding gown.

"She planned this," I whispered.

"She planned it three years ago," Marco said. "When Lucien 'died.' That wasn't Damian. That was her."

---

I cornered Celeste in the funeral home bathroom.

She didn't scream when she saw me. She just locked the door.

"You were supposed to be on a plane to Brazil," she said.

"I forge signatures, not obituaries. What the hell, Celeste?"

She was shaking. Not with grief. With rage. "You don't get it. You never did. Mom didn't die in a car crash, Elise. She killed herself. Because of Dad. Because of the debt. Because of _me_. I was the one who told her about the affair. I was twelve."

I went cold.

"Damian found out," she kept going. "Three years ago. He was going to tell Dad. It would have destroyed him. So I made a deal with Lucien. We fake his death, he disappears, and Damian gets the company clean. No scandal. No suicide Part 2."

"Lucien didn't embezzle," I said.

"No. I did. I funneled money to pay off Mom's gambling debts. The ones Dad didn't know about. Lucien took the fall because I-" She choked. "Because I loved him. And he loved me. Not the version Damian wanted. Me."

"So you killed me to run with him?"

"I didn't kill you!" She grabbed my arms. "The body in the car is mine, Elise. Or it was supposed to be. Dental records, medical records - I switched them years ago. Every X-ray, every filling. I was setting it up. In case I ever needed to disappear."

"Why now?"

"Because Damian was never going to let you go." Her eyes were wild. "He doesn't love you. He collects you. Like those photos. Like the bedroom. He told me, if you ever tried to leave, he'd make sure there was no Elise left to find. So I gave him one."

The door rattled.

Damian's voice. Calm. "Celeste? You've been in there a while."

Celeste's face went white. She shoved a burner phone into my hand. "Lucien's at the docks. Pier 54. He has the real merger documents. The ones that burn Kaine Corp to the ground. Take them. Run. Don't trust Damian. Don't trust _me_."

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because I'm the bad twin," she said. "And you're the only person who ever took my punishments."

The lock clicked.

Damian opened the door.

He saw me.

He didn't look surprised.

He looked at Celeste. "You were supposed to be in the casket, darling."

Then he looked at me. "And you were supposed to be in Brazil."

He pulled a gun.

Not on me.

On Celeste.

"She's the loose end, Elise. Not you. She faked Lucien's death. She embezzled. She switched the dental records. She put _you_ in that car in every legal way that matters. I was just cleaning up her mess. Like you always did."

Celeste didn't flinch. "Tell her the rest, Dame. Tell her why you need me dead."

Damian's finger tightened on the trigger.

"Because the real contingency clause," he said to me, "doesn't give the company to the wife. It gives it to the surviving twin. I married Celeste on paper. But if she dies, and you're legally declared dead... there's no one left to inherit but me."

He smiled.

"That was the plan. Until you forged her name."

He turned the gun on me.

"Now I just need one body. Yours or hers. The police won't check twice."

The burner phone in my hand buzzed.

Text from Lucien: _Cops are here. It was a setup. D called them. Run._

Sirens wailed outside the funeral home.

Damian's smile didn't drop. "Checkmate," he said again.

This time, he meant it.