Chapter 2

I forced my face into a neutral expression.

"Actually, Jessica," I said, my voice surprisingly steady, "I'm not going home this Thanksgiving."

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose.

"You're not? But your mom makes the best pecan pie in three states!"

She even remembered details like that. Always observant. Always gathering information.

"I know, but I picked up some extra shifts at that coffee shop downtown. Trying to save up for Christmas presents."

A lie. But a plausible one.

Jessica pouted. "Oh. That's too bad. I was really hoping to meet your family. You always make them sound so... nice."

The word "nice" dripped with something else. Something I now recognized.

Possessiveness. Covetousness.

"Yeah, well, money's a bit tight," I said, shrugging. I needed to keep her at bay. To think.

"Really? I thought your family's restaurant was doing great." Her eyes narrowed slightly.

She was probing. Testing.

"It is," I said quickly. "But, you know, I want to buy something really special for Emily's baby. My future niece or nephew."

That part was true. Or it had been. Before Jessica.

The mention of the baby seemed to satisfy her. For now.

She sighed dramatically. "Okay, well, I guess it's another lonely Thanksgiving for me then. Just me and a microwave dinner."

She looked so pitiful. So convincing.

Last time, my heart had ached for her.

This time, I felt nothing but ice.

"Sorry, Jess," I said, trying to sound genuinely regretful.

I got out of bed, my legs a little shaky. The phantom pain of the car accident still lingered.

The first thing I did after she left for class was check my Greyhound app.

Last year, in my misguided attempt to surprise her, I'd bought her ticket home with me.

There it was. A reservation for two.

My finger hovered over the cancel button for her ticket.

Deleted.

A small knot of tension eased in my chest.

One small change. One step away from the abyss.

The next few days were a blur of feigned normalcy.

I went to classes. Smiled at Jessica. Made small talk.

Inside, I was a raging inferno of hate and fear.

Every time she spoke, every time she looked at me with that false friendship, I remembered.

I remembered Emily's empty arms. My father's vacant stare after the stroke. Michael's pain.

My own blood on the asphalt.

Thanksgiving morning arrived. Cold and grey.

I packed a small overnight bag, my hands trembling slightly.

"Have a good shift," Jessica called from her bed, already scrolling through her phone.

"You too," I said, my voice tight. "Enjoy your... microwave dinner."

She didn't even look up.

The bus ride to Oakhaven, my hometown, was two hours long.

Two hours of staring out the window, my reflection a pale, determined ghost.

I replayed my plan over and over.

It was simple. Keep Jessica away from my family. That was all.

If she never came home with me, the catalyst for the disaster would be gone.

No drugged brother. No false accusations. No ruined lives.

The bus pulled into the Oakhaven station.

I stepped onto the platform, breathing in the familiar scent of pine and woodsmoke.

Mom was waiting by the entrance, waving, her smile as bright as the winter sun.

My heart swelled. I wanted to run to her, bury my face in her coat, and tell her everything.

But I couldn't. She'd think I was crazy.

I started towards her, a real smile finally reaching my own lips.

Then, a movement to my right.

A familiar figure, backpack slung over one shoulder, practically skipped past me.

Jessica.

She rushed towards my mother, beaming.

"Mrs. Miller! It's so wonderful to finally meet you! Sarah talks about you all the time. I hope you don't mind, I just had to come. I got my ticket information from Sarah's cancellation email for her extra one – lucky me, I snagged the last seat!"

Her voice was honey-sweet, her eyes wide and innocent.

She had my mother's hand in hers, shaking it warmly.

I froze.

Blood turned to ice in my veins.

She'd found a way. Of course, she had.

The cancellation email. It would have had the bus number, the arrival time.

She had followed me.

Dad appeared beside Mom, smiling his welcome. He was already charmed, just like Mom.

"Well, any friend of Sarah's is a friend of ours! Come on in, dear. You must be freezing."

They were leading her towards our old station wagon.

Mom looked back, saw me standing there like a statue.

She chuckled. "Sarah, honey, you look like you've forgotten who we are!"

My throat was too tight to speak.

The nightmare was starting all over again.

But this time, I wouldn't just stand by and watch.

If she wanted a show, I'd give her one.

A plan, desperate and dangerous, began to form in my mind.