Page 97 of The Roommate Lie

Tyler grins, and they share a twin moment from opposite sides of the living room. Both of them nodding at each other in perfect unison. Forever partners in crime.

I don’t expect that to make my heart ache, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Seeing them together always reminds me of my twin sisters. How special their bond is, and all the ways I might’ve messed things up by helping Nicki keep a secret from her twin. It’s one of the few tough subjects I’d do anything to avoid these days, including ambush a raccoon with a strawberry pie.

I focus on that instead, our big plan. The lights are out, the downstairs windows are open, and the trap is set, but it takes a long time for our guest to show up. As we wait in silence, Charlie’s phone rings loud and long. Scaring every last one of us half to death, even Charlie.

Muriel gives him the most murderous glance I’ve ever seen, especially from a woman in possession of a cursed baby doll, as if he’s compromised our entire mission. Ducking away with an apologetic smile, he sneaks upstairs to answer his phone. My hiding place is closest to the stairs, closest to him, and his voice drifts toward me.

“No, it’s fine,” he says. “I was just calling about the raccoon that keeps showing up. The really angry and aggressive one.”

Wild Bill.

I breathe a sigh of relief. The true professional has arrived. If not in person, at least in spirit. Maybe we’re not about to get mauled by an angry, pie-loving raccoon after all.

Charlie hesitates. “You really think so? I mean, I guess that makes sense.”

A long silence stretches before he speaks again.

“In the attic? Are you sure? I haven’t heard anything, but I can check.”

His footsteps thump gently above me, and I hear the soft creak of an attic trapdoor, the squeal of the ladder as it unfolds.

Danger.

That’s all those sounds mean to me now. Thanks to Muriel, attics are my new nightmare destination, the worst place a person could ever go. I hear Charlie climb up, and anxiety gets the better of me. I can’t let him go in there alone. No matter how much I’m trying to avoid him.

Staying low, I crawl to the stairs and creep toward the second floor. Nobody notices. There’s a familiar scratching sound outside, a soft thump as our furry enemy climbs through the kitchen window, and that’s all anybody cares about.

Muriel and the Sharp twins wait for the ghost squirrel to join them in the living room, for him to go after that animal-trap pie. Instead, there’s a metallic squeal. The sound of a very familiar door as it’s pried open.

“The refrigerator,” Lydia whispers.

“The backup pie,” Tyler wails.

“He’s a genius,” Muriel tuts reverently. “An absolute genius.”

I don’t stay to see what happens next. After I reach the top of the stairs, I glance back as the Sharp twins nod in unison again. Muriel hisses for them to stay put, but they don’t listen. And that’s all I need to know.

Our mission is doomed.

Meanwhile, Charlie needs my help, and I can’t let him brave the attic alone. I pause at the foot of the ladder, gazing up into the void above me. Then I climb up into the dark to follow him. I’m starting to think I’d follow that man just about anywhere.

A crash echoes downstairs as I near the top of the ladder. Lydia squeals, and there’s a yelp and a scuffle. “Be careful,” Muriel hollers. “He can smell fear.”

Thankfully, once I’m in the attic, those sounds fade—for the most part. Charlie’s attic is neat and organized, but it’s way too dark. The faint glow of Charlie’s phone shimmers in the distance, and I follow it.

As I reach him, he glances up to greet me, his voice soft. “Babies,” he whispers. “Tiny raccoon babies.”

And there they are, two little mischievous angels. Their soft, dark eyes gleam up at us from their makeshift nest of old curtains that were stacked in the corner. The new stuffed bee Lydia bought is nestled beside them, along with Cookie’s backup toy, a small stuffed sheep.

“Bill said there were a few reasons a raccoon might be that aggressive,” Charlie says, “and this is one of them. I guess our ghost squirrel was a raccoon mom.”

I can’t help smiling, and he’s smiling too.

“Bill thinks maybe they were living at Muriel’s, but the mom moved everyone here because it seemed safer.”

Safer?Downstairs there’s a monumental clatter that’s followed by more clatters. One after another like someone’s throwing musical instruments down a flight of stairs. Lydia squeals a few times in a row, Muriel is yelling out pointers, and Tyler bellowsdeath to tyrantslike a battle cry.

When Charlie sees the panic on my face, he shakes his head. “Ty’s a vegetarian—we’re fine. He just gets carried away sometimes. That man wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

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