Page 60 of You Will Never Be Me

“What was it?” Clara says. “Aspen?”

I can’t bear to look at her. “It’s fine. The kids are having a great time.” My voice sounds like it’s coming from afar.

“Bullshit it’s fine,” Clara shoots back. “You look like shit. What is it?”

I don’t bother replying. Instead, I put my phone away and resume driving.

“Are you serious right now?” Clara says.

“It’s nothing,” I say.

“Unbelievable.” She shakes her head and gazes out the window, taking in a shuddery breath. Then, shaking her head again, she mutters something and takes her phone out of her bag. For a few blessed moments, there is silence. I pray that it lasts the rest of the trip home. But then Clara goes, “What the fuck?” And she turns the volume up on her phone.

A video is playing. A video with my voice.

“—you get in bed, please? Just for a second,” my voice says.

“I’m busy,” says Elea.

“It’ll take a second. I just need you to pretend that you’re waking up, okay? You’ll get a star for this.”

“What the hell is this?” Clara says, glaring at me.

I clamp down on the steering wheel and keep my gaze forward. My guts twist into tight knots, making me want to throw up, but somehow I manage to keep driving. The video continues playing. I hear myself scolding Elea for rolling her eyes. I hear myself chirping at them to rise and shine. Then it ends, and out comes Tanya’s hateful voice.

“This is the video that Meredith sent to me. She wanted to show me what a fake bitch Aspen is, and I’ve held on to this video for months because y’alls know I’m not one for airing dirty laundry. But Aspen’s lies have gone too far. She knows something, youguys. I mean, come on, Meredith sent me this video, and months later she’s brutally killed? You’re going to sit there and tell me that Aspen had nothing to do with it? I call bullshit. Justice for Meredith. Lock Aspen up!” The video ends there.

There is a shocked silence. Then Clara says, in a soft, dangerous tone I’ve never heard her use before, “Is this true?”

I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. I can barely breathe. Please, let this be nothing more than a bad dream. Please.

“But it is you in the video.”

I nod and clear my throat. Get a freaking grip. “Yes. We make things up, you know that. It means nothing.”

“How did Meredith get ahold of it?” Clara says.

“I don’t know,” I cry. “I—look, I promise you, Clara, I had nothing to do with it. Nothing!”

For a second, it looks as though Clara is about to say something. Then she thinks better of it and sits still, though I notice that her right hand is now clutching the armrest of the door, as though she’s preparing to open the car door and jump out at any moment. It’s the longest drive of my life, the air thick and toxic with tension.

When we finally arrive at my house, Clara leaps out before the car rolls to a full stop and dashes inside, calling out, “Luca? Luca, where are you? Luca!”

Ben hurries out of the living room. “Hey, you—” Clara rushes past him. I hurry behind her. Ben looks at me questioningly, and I give a small shake of the head. We watch as Clara scoops Luca out of the playpen and shoulders past us, refusing to meet our eyes. At the door, she pauses long enough to say, “Don’t come near us ever again.”

“Clara—” I say, but already she’s opened the door.

She practically sprints away from our house, her shoulders hunched, her expression probably thunderous. The reporters are clamoring at her, shouting, “Clara, did Aspen kill your sister?”

I slam the door shut and let my head fall back against it. Oh god. How could I possibly have thought that things couldn’t get any worse?Anytime now, I’m going to be arrested, I think. I open my eyes and the first thing I see is Ben, still staring at me with that awful expression on his face, like he’s seeing a particularly disgusting centipede crawling across his meal.

“Did your friend get back to you with the lawyer’s number?” I manage to say.

Instead of answering, Ben’s mouth twists, his face turning ugly. “I’m only going to ask you this once, Aspen.” He steps closer to me, and now I feel afraid. I am a tiny animal trapped by a hungry wolf. Ben might feel small, but physically he is anything but. The muscles in his arms ripple as he raises them, and I shrink back.

“Don’t—”

“Did you kill her?” he snarls, his face so close to mine that I feel the heat of his breath on my skin.

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