Page 64 of My Twin Sister

She looks like I slapped her, and I can feel the annoyance bubbling in my blood.

“You want to know too, don’t you? You want to find out how that crap got on Dad’s computer. Raven PD have been known to plant evidence—”

I snap my mouth shut. I shouldn’t have said that. She tilts her head to the side like a curious puppy. Why did I say that? I heard what the man said at the beach about Brooke no longer being a problem for the police after being pushy with her questions. I gave her even more to question them about, and now she’s dead.

Geny already knows more than she should about me and Frank and that’s enough. I shouldn’t be getting her involved with anything else. She has two boys. A family. That’s all she needs to worry about.

I stand up and walk my cup to the sink.

“What did you mean by that?” she asks when I don’t continue.

“Nothing,” I say. “I’m just upset. I’m going to go back to Mom and Dad’s for a while. I just need some time. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, but her voice lacks conviction. “Let me drive you.”

“No. That’s okay. Some time walking will be nice. I’ll call you later. Maybe we can do dinner tomorrow. I want to hang out with the boys.”

She stands like she isn’t sure what to do with her body. “Okay.”

“I love you,” I call as I make for the door.

I don’t hear her response, but I need to leave. I need space and a burn in my lungs. Luckily, I’m wearing tennis shoes. It doesn’t matter that I’m in jeans. I’ve run in jeans plenty of times.

I pump my legs and find a comfortable pace. The familiar feel of my legs burning is a solvent for my messy mind and aching heart. Soon the burn will dissipate as my body settles in. The cold air burns my throat. My favorite feeling in the world.

Usually, after the first mile, my thoughts go away. I focus only on my breathing and the pace of my feet hitting the ground. But I’m almost two miles in and they won’t go away. I’m the reason Brooke is dead. Two sisters dead on the same beach nearly two decades apart. Is it more important to prove my dad innocent? He’s already gone. What does the truth matter? The police are crooked, and that’s all I need to know.

I could leave right now and never look back. I could let it all go like I intended to when I swam away from the shore that night. I should have left things as they were. I shouldn’t have come back. I’ve stirred up too much and now other people are paying the price.

And what if it’s Geny who’s next? What if it’s me? Someone is following me, texting me, and threatening me. I can’t die here. I have too much to lose. More than I ever did back then. Or at least that I knew of.

I keep running without thought or intention, and to my surprise, I stop right outside Murphy’s house. It’s a long run. It must be something like seven or eight miles. Nothing in a car, but a bit much for an impromptu run in jeans. His truck is parked outside. I feel so stupid for coming here. I don’t know why I did.

I’m about to turn around and start the long run back when his front door opens.

“I have more coffee,” he calls.

I hesitate, already facing the road away from him.

“And bagels.”

“What kind of bagels?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Come in and see.”

I sigh and give in. I haven’t eaten anything yet and fourteen miles on an empty stomach is a dumb move. He holds the door open for me and I step inside. It’s warm. Probably warmer to me because I’m sweating and my body is used to the cold air outside. I strip off my jacket and hold it in my arms.

Murphy takes it from me and tosses it on the armchair before leading the way to the kitchen. He goes to a cabinet and takes out three different bags of bagels.

“Plain, cinnamon, or everything?” he asks, looking up at me.

“Why do you have so many bagels?”

“I like bagels. Are you trying to judge me on my bagel selection?”

I shake my head. “No. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He raises a suspicious eyebrow.