Perfect Lies (20 page)

The whisper of her sigh against the phone makes me ache to hold her close, the way I used to when we were little.

“I love him,” she says. “Why would I love him if I wasn’t supposed to?”

“Oh, baby sister. We all want things we shouldn’t have. Even you. Just because you love him doesn’t mean you should. Love is a choice, like anything else.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Listen to me. If you do whatever course you’re set on right now, you … Just don’t do it. Promise me you won’t do it. Don’t hurt Sadie.”

“I’m broken. I don’t know anything anymore. I can’t feel it like I used to.”

“Let me feel it for you, then. Let me make this choice.”

She’s quiet, and I strain against the phone, listening to her breathe, counting on each breath, needing to hear them.

“I’ll figure it out,” she says, and now she sounds distracted and far away. “I always do.”

“Not this time. Please, Fia.”

“Don’t worry about me. It’s my job to take care of you, remember? Stay out of this. Stay safe. That’s all I want.”

“I’m coming—”

“No.
No
. You stay far away. Stay far away where you’re safe. I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.”

“Fia—”

“I love you, Annie. Go live. I won’t call again.”

The line goes dead.

“No no no no no,” I moan, letting my head drop. “No.”

And then—oh please not another one I can’t see this again—light.

I watch my sister die.

In the vision, the beautiful traitor sits on a leather couch, leaning back with his legs crossed.

Next to him is Sadie. Dark circles under her eyes making her look older than sixteen.

The only door opens and two people enter the room. This is hell, watching this happen over and over again, not being able to change it. There is James. There is Phillip Keane.

And then there’s Fia, my Fia, who looks from Sadie to Phillip Keane and back again, slides along the wall next to the door, shoves her fist into her mouth as though suppressing a scream. James and Rafael both look at her at the same time, expectant and demanding.

She giggles, a high, nervous sound, and she looks less than human, somehow.

There’s a loud noise from the hall, a shout, and then something slams against the wall. The door flies open again and a man, ferocity in his blunt, young face, bursts into the room, fighting with another man in a suit. They fall to the ground, a tangle of vicious pounding limbs.

And then

And then

And then

I
walk into the room, sightless eyes wide with terror, a gun that looks too heavy clutched in my wildly shaking hands.

Phillip Keane raises an eyebrow as though seeing someone he thought was dead happens every day. Fia’s shoulders collapse and I can see the life draining from her even though nothing has happened yet.

“No,” she says.

I hold the gun out, but I’m pointing at nothing, and everyone knows I won’t shoot, can’t shoot, can’t even see what needs to be shot. Phillip Keane is to my right, James Keane is to my left, Fia is sliding along the wall to get behind me.

The two men still beat at each other on the floor and I think—I know—help will come too late. It’s too late. I’m useless.

Fia puts a hand on my shoulder, reaches from behind me, takes the gun from my hand. “Good-bye, Annie,” she says, and she doesn’t sound sad. She sounds … gone.

Then she raises the gun and

She shoots Sadie in the head

Or

She shoots Phillip Keane in the head

It changes—shifts back and forth between the two realities so quickly I can’t figure out which happens, which will happen, which did happen. It is all a blur of heads and bullets and dying.

But the ending is always the same.

She puts the still-smoking gun under her own chin and pulls the trigger again. Darkness returning brings no relief. My head is buried in Cole’s chest, and he strokes my hair, telling me it will be okay.

It won’t.

“We’re there,” I sob. “We try to stop it and it doesn’t change anything.”

“We still have to try,” he says.

And he’s right. This is the tragedy of knowing my fate: I have seen how it ends, and I will walk right into it, and nothing will change.

ONCE UPON A TIME, I WAS A LITTLE GIRL WITH A MOM
and a dad and a sister, and the only monsters in the world were imaginary.

Then I became one of the monsters.

Once upon a time I thought I had done enough to keep Annie safe. I thought that if she was gone, if we were separated, we would finally be free to make our own choices.

But I was wrong. She was still in danger. She was always in danger. We had it backward.
I’m
the problem. As long as I’m alive, Annie isn’t safe. As long as I’m alive, no one who should be is.

One more. One more thing. I’ll do one more terrible thing, one last terrible thing to keep her safe.

And I won’t think beyond that.

I BLINK AWAY THE LIGHT, TREMBLING AND SHAKING.

“Again?” Cole asks, his voice soft. I’ve had the vision four more times on the way here. It doesn’t change.

It never changes.

Cars honk behind us, the city louder than I could have imagined. We’re outside the building where Keane’s offices are on the top floor. I feel like we’re on the edge of a cliff, and I know we’ll fall, and I know exactly what the impact at the bottom will feel like.

I can’t save Fia. I can’t even protect Sadie.

“Are you ready for this?” Eden asks, her voice falsely bright with bravado. “Because I’m down for kicking some serious Keane butt.”

“You’re never there,” I say. “In the room.”

“Well, we’re going to change that, aren’t we. We’re going to change all of it.”

I wipe under my eyes and nod, but I don’t feel it. Nothing is going to change. I push my sunglasses back over my face and hold out my hand. We’ve agreed it’s best to avoid being recognized for as long as possible. I have to pretend to be sighted.

I’m expecting Eden’s hand, but it’s Cole’s fingers that twine with mine. I let out a breath of exhausted laughter.

“What?” he asks.

It’s his hand. There’s no doubt. I don’t know how there ever was any. “In case it changes, or we all die or something, I want you to know that I’m going to fall in love with you.”

He’s quiet, and I wonder how I can worry about something this silly right now, but I’m afraid he’ll take his hand back. “Sorry. Was that weird?” I try to smile, but Cole’s right. I can’t smile when I don’t mean it.

He squeezes my fingers and traces his thumb along mine. “Actually, it’s a relief. Now I know you won’t knee me for doing this.”

He leans in and brushes his lips against mine. It’s not as desperate as the kiss on the bed. It’s a feather of a kiss, a promise of a kiss, and I hope with everything in me that it’s a promise we’ll be able to keep. I just don’t see how there is a future in which that will be possible now.

“Well then,” Eden says. “If no one’s going to kiss me, let’s get this show on the road.”

We walk through a door into the odorless air of a lobby. Cole doesn’t pause, walks confidently, and I do my best to match his pace.

“Excuse me, miss?”

I nearly freeze, but Cole pulls my hand, insistent and steady. I don’t stop.

“Yes?” Eden asks, and her voice is farther behind us than it should be.

“I’m going to need to see your ID.” The guy talking sounds apologetic.

“What for? I’ve never had to show it before.”

“Sorry. I don’t make the rules, I’m just the security guy.”

“So, what, you’re supposed to stop every black person that walks through here, because we couldn’t possibly belong in a fancy building? Could you be any more racist?”

“No, that’s not it at all! I only—”

“I want to speak to your supervisor.”

Cole stops, and then there’s a light ding. We step over the threshold of the elevator.

Eden isn’t with us.

Just like I knew she wouldn’t be.

The elevator slows and I take a deep breath—then there are lights, no, no, not again!

By the time Fia kills herself, I am leaning against Cole, barely standing.

“What are you doing here?” a voice hisses. I know this voice.

Cole speaks. “We’re here with Mr. Marino. It’s urgent.”

“You can’t lie to me! I know Annie.”

Please, Mae
, I think.
Fia’s going to die.

“Oh, no,” she whispers. There’s a buzz and a click. “Come on!”

Cole grabs my hand and runs forward. I’m dragged behind, trying my hardest to match his pace.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” I know this voice, too. Nathan. “You can’t go back there!”

“Mae, what’s going on?” another man asks.

“It’s a setup! Rafael Marino is after Mr. Keane,” Mae says.

“Is that true?”

“No!” Nathan shouts.

Cole lets go of my hand and I back up until I hit the wall.

“We have a situation!” the Keane security guy says, met by crackling static. There’s the meaty sound of a fist connecting with a face, and he cries out.

Someone hits the wall next to me. I know by his cologne that it’s not Cole. I jump on Nathan, throwing my arms around his neck and wrapping my legs around his torso.

“Go!” I scream.

I hear Cole run. I can feel a gun beneath my thigh, where it hits Nathan’s hip. I let go of his neck and grab the gun as he slams me into the wall and I drop to the ground. The vibrations of his feet pounding the floor follow Cole. Someone fires a shot. The security guy shouts, Mae screams, and I hear bodies slam into a wall. Then the sound of a door opening.

I stand, the gun heavy and cold in my hand. I know what it looks like. I’ve seen it so many times now. I know I will get into the room without being stopped.

I know my part.

I walk toward the end.

PIXIE LOOKS UP AS JAMES AND I WALK BY.

“Fia, wait. Can I talk to you? Please?”

I don’t think anything at her. I don’t think anything at all.

Left foot, right foot, James’s hand on my shoulder, guiding me. Left foot, right foot, so much can be accomplished without active thought. We pass through the doorway. I see Sandy blond with a gun, standing sentry in the hall with one of our security guards.

Ours.

Keane’s. Ours. Mine. Doesn’t matter.

Outside the room James stops, squeezes my shoulder but I don’t feel it, not like I ought to, I don’t feel anything. I’m a not-person. Not not not not. Tap tap tap tap.

Tap.

His father joins us. James opens the door and walks in, his posture perfect and his steps confident and his smile his very best, most assured lie. Rafael and the girl are waiting.

I follow, sliding along the wall, because I am a not-person and not-people take up no space in rooms.

I look at Phillip Keane, but he doesn’t look at me, because he already knows I’m a not-person, he’s known all along. He made me this way. I look at the girl on the couch, but can’t keep looking at her, because if I keep looking at her, the girl on the couch will be a real person, and even not-person me can’t kill a real person.