Page 161 of Not Quite Dead Yet

‘Did you know we were inside when you burned it down? Were you trying to kill me?’

Luke didn’t answer, but one of his shoulders tensed, flinching toward his ear.

‘Did you know I was inside?’

Luke sighed.

‘You did,’ Jet said, reading the answer in his silence, the wind howling through it. ‘You tried to kill me.’

‘No.’ Luke found his voice. ‘I knew you’d have time to get out. I was just trying to stop you.’

‘Stop me from finding out about the invoice fraud?’ Jet said. ‘The workers’ comp insurance, the payroll taxes? What happened with Henry Lim? Well, you didn’t stop me. We found them all. You’ve been busy, Luke.’

He turned suddenly, face rearranged around his rage, blinking against the headlight.

‘I was saving the company!’

‘Someone should have saved it from you!’ Jet’s left hand was in her pocket, around the gun, her letters folded behind. Luke could be scary, but she wasn’t scared. ‘And you did, by the way, almost kill us. Me and Billy. Me. You probably think it doesn’t count, because I’m dying anyway, but it does count, Luke. It matters. Some things are more important than a company.’

Luke shook his head.

‘They are, Luke.’ Jet hardened her voice, tightened her grip. ‘You know, it’s because of Emily. Why you’re like this.’

Luke laughed, a breathy, hollow sound.

‘Why does everyone always want to talk about Emily?’

‘Why don’t you?’

‘Because it doesn’t matter, it was seventeen years ago. Grow up, Jet.’

Jet pressed forward, leaves rustling, whispering under her feet.

‘It matters, Luke. Emily dying changed everything. Mom blamed me, you know?’ She sniffed. ‘I overheard her, after the funeral. Said that if I hadn’t gotten to the final of that competition, if I hadn’t won, she and Dad would have been at home and Emily wouldn’t have drowned. Do you know what that did to me?’

Her chest seized, squeezed her heart for just a second, and then she let it go, that guilt, because it wasn’t hers anymore.

‘But Emily’s death wasn’t my fault.’ Jet tilted her head, stared her brother down. ‘It was yours, Luke.’

His face folded up, a scowl, made uglier by the shadows from the beam. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You drowned Emily, didn’t you?’

Luke laughed.

‘You’ve lost your mind.’

‘No, it’s still just about in there, Luke. Tell me the truth. Did you kill her?’

Still laughing.

‘Emily’s death was an accident, Jet.’

It was the laughing that did it.

‘Did you kill her?!’ Jet screamed.

She pulled the gun out of her pocket, pointed it at Luke, straight through his chest.

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