Page 73 of My Twin Sister

She laughs but it’s clear she isn’t finding anything funny. “No thanks,” she says. “You go ahead home. I’ll clean up.”

“No way. I said I’d take care of everything. I’m not going to make you clean up the dinner I hosted at your house.”

“You’re not making me do anything, Grace. Like you said, it’s my house.”

Her tone is bitter, but before I can say anything she bursts into tears. I don’t think about it, I just wrap my arms around her. She lets me and lays her head on my shoulder. She shakes from her sobs as she mumbles “I’m sorry” over and over again.

“It’s okay, Geny. Everything is okay.”

I look up at movement behind my sister to see Wyatt. I give him a warning look, and he retreats into the kitchen quietly. This is a moment for me to be here for my sister. I pull Geny to the couch and gently push her to sit. Her face is blotchy, and she reminds me so much of her teenage self right now that I could start crying myself.

“Talk to me,” I say.

She shakes her head like she’s trying to collect herself. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m fine. Sorry. I’m okay.” She sniffs and tries to stand up.

“Stop.” I pull her back to the couch. “Don’t push me away. I know I haven’t been here for you, but I’m here now. Let me in. Like you used to.”

She laughs. “Right. Because we were always so open with each other.”

I nod, biting my lip. “We weren’t always. But we were once.”

“You mean you remember?”

I bite back my sigh because I walked into that. “Yes, I remember.”

We both sit in silence with the lie we both know is a lie. My hands and feet are tingling, begging me to get up and do something with the knowledge I’ve uncovered. But my sister needs me. And what does any of it matter without her? Even if I stop Frank and tell the world he’s the bad guy — not my dad or all the other people he’s hurt — what does it matter if I don’t have my sister at the end of it?

“I’m sorry,” I say.

Her eyes glance up to mine. “For what?”

“For everything. For not coming home. For coming back the way I did. For everything you went through by yourself because I was gone. For not telling you everything now.” I grab her hands and squeeze them. “But, Geny, I promise I will tell you everything soon. Just trust me, okay? I know I don’t deserve your trust, but I’m begging you to give it to me anyway. Just this one time.”

She stares at me for a long few seconds. “Okay,” she says.

I can’t tell if she actually believes me or if she’s just saying what I want to hear. I stand up and walk to the kitchen to collect a few of the things I brought from our parents’ house. Wyatt is cleaning up, and I know I just have a few seconds.

“Please keep an eye on her. She’s not doing well. And things are about to get worse before they get better.”

I walk back into the hallway just as Geny is walking toward the kitchen. She doesn’t want me alone with Wyatt and I won’t push her.

“I love you, Gen.” I hug her and she wraps her arms around me. I let the hug linger. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

I feel her nod and then we let go.

I walk to my car, feeling my body warm with anger the closer I get to Frank’s stash of pictures. I have to trust that Wyatt will take care of my sister because I need to put my full focus on Frank. I might not walk away from this. Not without handcuffs, anyway. But it’s something I’ve come to accept over the last few hours. Prison isn’t ideal, but it’s better than the life of anonymity I’ve lived for half my life. At least the people I love will know where I am. They can visit. They can write. It’s more than I ever had before.

Forty-Two: Grace

I have what I need. It may not be enough evidence for the FBI, but it’s enough for my court. Regardless, I compile what I have onto a flash drive: the things I know, the things I’ve found (illegally), and the things I suspect.

I still don’t have proof of a lot of things. No proof that Frank was arranging to have me killed. I only have Wyatt’s word. No proof that he killed Morgan and Brooke. No proof that he killed my dad. But that’s for the FBI to figure out. I can’t do it all. I do have some proof of the drugs the police have been stealing and planting. I make sure to add the audio clip from Garrett Wilson’s apartment.

Frank will pay for his crimes. If the FBI can pin them to him in an official way, good for them. But either way, he will go down for the things he’s done. I need to get the USB to Wyatt before everything else happens.

But before that, I need to make a phone call.

I dial the familiar number and pray for an answer. It’s late. But not too late. Not for a college kid.