Page 14 of Switching Graves

4

Sonny

Aweek later, Poppy barrels through the front door of Flower Power, brushing past a man on his way out with a brand new bouquet for his wife. She hops onto the counter in front of me and throws her hands up defensively.

“I know what you think about my insane idea, but I’ve thought it over a lot more, and I think you should seriously consider it as an option before dismissing me so easily.”

“Poppy,” I groan her name, hanging my head between my shoulders.

“Just listen,” she snaps.

My expression falls, though I still indulge her. “Tell me why you think this will work so well.”

I’ve managed to dodge all her attempts at bringing Ravenshurst up again. It wasn’t hard, considering how swamped I’ve been with filling out job and apartment applications. There hasn’t been a lot of time for us to just hang out and chat. None of that has stopped her from subtly sprinkling hints in at random times for me to ignore.

I’ve even brought up the idea of us getting an apartment together as a compromise for dismissing her, but she’s too hyper fixated on this fantasy.

“Because it’s perfect for both of us. You’ll get your degree from an Ivy League school that will have every master’s program begging for you to attend, and I’ll get to do what I’ve dreamed of doing since I was five years old.”

Sighing through my nose, I shift my weight and lean my hip on the counter, then cross my arms. “There are so many kinks in this plan, Poppy, I don’t even know where to begin. This isn’t some quirky Disney movie. It’s real life.”

Poppy shakes her head. “I’ve thought of everything. Ask me,” she urges confidently.

Excitedly, even.

“Okay . . . what about money? How will you be getting anywhere past state lines without Divina immediately being notified? How do you expect me to survive on the ten cents I have in my checking account?”

I wish that were an exaggeration.

“We’ll swap accounts. I’ll transfer some of the inheritance I got from my grandpa into your name and use that to get around. I know I can trust you with it. And we’ll split everything my parents give me to cover my time there—which at this point is a whole lot. They’re desperate to get me out. I’ll have fake IDs and passports made and for all intents and purposes, I will be Sonny Ellery and you will be Penelope Ellery.”

“You’re stealing my identity,” I deadpan.

“We’re stealing each other’s identities,” she laughs, shrugging.

“Okay, what about your mom’s friends? You don’t think they’ll realize that I’m not Divina’s daughter?”

One thing Aunt Divina was adamant about was keeping me as far away from her social life as I could get. On the rareoccasion they had friends over for dinner or went out as a family, I was forced to stay in my room until it was over.

“I have no idea what they’ll think. What I do know is that I’ve hardly spoken to a single one of those people. She’s always been weirdly secretive about them. Plus, we look similar enough that they won’t think twice if, by some off chance, my mother has ever bothered to show them a picture of me. You know how she gets about her ridiculous alumni functions. We’ll even scrape our personal accounts clean of any photos of us, so they can’t look online.”

Biting my lip, I consider that point. She’s not wrong. Everyone who has seen us together has assumed we’re sisters, given our similarities. We share the same unruly, curly red hair as our fathers—though, Poppy keeps hers more tamed than I do. Each of us have inherited the straight Ellery noses, overly-plump lips, and high cheekbones. In fact, the only notable difference between us is our eye color. Where hers are a brilliant green, I’ve been gifted with my mom’s unique violet.

Shaking my head, I can’t help but laugh. She is truly out of her mind.

But . . . What if it worked? What if all of our problems were solved with a few, carefully curated white lies?

Perhaps I’m desperate enough to try. There are no other options for me otherwise, aside from going back to Aunt Divina and Uncle Graysen’s with my tail between my legs to buy myself more time. An unlikely long-term option, considering the way we left things. Besides, without Poppy there with me, that sounds absolutely horrendous.

“You’re just going to travel alone?” I finally say, nearly out of reasons to say no.

“Of course not. I found this conservation group that’s leaving for Costa Rica in mid-August. Right around Welcome Week at Ravenshurst.”

“So you’re going with a group of strangers?” I balk. “How is that better?”

“Not strangers,” Poppy insists. “We’ve really gotten to know each other in our group chat. What they’re doingmattersand I want to be a part of it. I’m telling you, this is a perfect opportunity for us. If you don’t want in, I completely understand. Obviously, it will be easier to get out of here without my mom knowing, but I think I’m going to find a way to Costa Rica either way.”

She doesn’t have to say the true meaning behind her statement for me to understand. The train is leaving, whether I’m with her on this or not. I can either hop on and take the risk, or stay back and be homeless.

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