Page 122 of Good Girls Lie
“What is wrong with you? Are you high? Have you started down Mummy’s path at last? The money you inherit from the estate, what else?”
“But there’s no way. If I admit who I am now, they’ll kick me out. The Honor Code—”
“Do you think I care about your stupid little school? This little world you’re creating? I don’t. You need to sign the paperwork and take possession of Daddy’s cash, and I will relieve you of the funds and be off. No reason to wait until I’m twenty-five if we can do it now.”
“You must be joking. I can’t just walk away from this. That will blow up my life.”
Her eyes are strangely lit as if there’s a fire inside her. “Oh, are you settling in? Becoming one of them? Don’t you realize you’ll never be one of them? You’ll always just be the daughter of a junkie, a chip shop worker. You have no future, you never did. I was willing to give you a chance to earn your own way, to get the education you were dreaming about. But since you managed to get yourself in Daddy’s will, we might as well do this now. Sign the paperwork and hand over the cash.”
“But if I sign the paperwork, they’ll know who I really am.”
“Sign it, or I’ll walk into the school and tell them you’ve been keeping me captive so you could take my place and steal my money. Who do you think they’ll believe? The impostor? Or the rightful student? Look at me. It will take nothing to convince them you’ve been keeping me hostage.”
God, she is the most devious person I have ever known. Was this her plan for leverage all along?Think. Think.
I stand up straight. I’m taller than her, and I can look down, intimidate.
“I don’t care for your threats, Ashlyn. Do you honestly believe I don’t have proof you wanted me to do this? Do you think I didn’t protect myself? You wouldn’t dare blow me up. Yes, I might get kicked out of the school, but if you do that, I will make sure you get put in jail. No money will save you from a double murder charge. I know what you did. I know how you did it. You won’t be able to blame their deaths on me. Fat lot of good Daddy’s money will do you then, shriveled up behind bars, only allowed to see sunlight an hour a day. You’ll go mad in there. Madder than you already are.”
I’ve hit a nerve. Her face twists in anger, and she lands a stunning blow to my cheek before I have a chance to pull away. The punch knocks me to the ground. The pain is incredible, mushroom clouding until I feel it peak and begin to throb. It’s almost as sore as the burn on my rib cage.
But my anger dissipates. This is what she’s gone through her whole life. She was on the receiving end of our father’s rages. How many black eyes did I minister to? How many times had she come to me with a bloodied nose or a missing tooth? He made her into this monster, just like he made me into a liar. We are a pair.
I roll over and get up on my knees. Her eyes are on fire now, the anger simmering, flames ready to leap.
“I’m sorry,” I say, in the most placating tone I have. “You’re right. I’ll get you the money. You just have to give me a few days to figure out how to make this all work. I think I already have an idea. Wouldn’t it be easier for you to just come forward as the illegitimate daughter? They’ve already taken my DNA swab. You go to the lawyers and do yours, I’ll hack into the database and switch them. Easy. Then you’ll receive the money, and I can stay here, at school. No one needs to know anything more.”
She looks at me like I’m the insane one. “How could youwantto stay here? They treat you terribly. That girl, Becca, she isn’t your friend. She’s going to hurt you, hurt you worse than you could ever imagine.”
Oh, what little you know, sister.She’s already torn me apart.
“No, she’s not. It’s a game. I’ve been tapped for a secret society, that’s all. It’s all in good fun.”
“You can’t possibly believe that.”
Becca is the least of my worries.
But Ashlyn’s sagging now—the beaten, cowed, unloved girl is back. These sparks of fury that make her lose her mind are frightening, yes, but they’re usually over as quickly as they start. It’s like she’s possessed. I’ve seen the worst her anger can do, lying on the floor of the parlor, pale, waxy, lifeless.
And on the headstone that sits atop a tiny coffin, buried on the estate.
And the blood on the parlor floor, leaking from Sylvia’s body.
And in my flat, the guileless, endless sleep of my mum, Gertrude, the needle still dangling from the crook of her elbow. I’ll never know if she did it on her own or if Ashlyn helped her along to make my part of the plan easier to stomach. I was too afraid to ask, too desperate to get out.
Ashlyn will do anything when her demon rises. I need to keep that part of her at bay for as long as possible until I figure out what to do.
She wasn’t supposed to come here, ever. She was supposed to be in Tahiti, or Bora Bora, wherever she decided to go.
Though it sounds like she’s been parked in Oxford, in my old flat, listening to the gossips and getting high with Kevin. Waiting for me to get the degrees in her name so she can inherit the estate and drown herself in whatever marsh she’s picked. What a fucking idiot. I got her out. I handed her a new life, one she begged for. And I got hers in return, the one she hated.
It was a fair trade.
Daddy dearest wasn’t supposed to name me an heir. When Nickerson told me about my phantom sister, so apologetic, so worried, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. All of the plans, all of the machinations, the hacks, the identity theft, being an impostor—none of it was necessary. If I’d waited, had a little faith, I would have had enough money to pay for any education I could desire.
Mum always told me to watch out for a woman scorned. She said Sylvia would kill me if she ever found out.
Yes, Mum told me about their affair. It’s why she ended up taking pills, to forget the dynamic, exciting Damien Carr when he threw her over and married simpering Sylvia.
