The Final Gambit (The Inheritance Games #3)(54)

That was the problem.

I focused on Thea’s fourth picture, the most recently uploaded, the only color photo in this set. There were two people in the picture, both laughing, their arms around each other: Thea Calligaris and Emily Laughlin. That picture was the only one with a caption: She was MY best friend, and YOU

don’t know what you’re talking about.

I goggled at the enormous number of responses the picture had, then glanced at Xander. “Thea’s doing damage control.” I couldn’t fight the gossip sites, but she could.

Xander angled his phone to me. “She posted a video, too.” He hit Play.

“You may have heard certain… rumors.” Thea’s voice was coy. “About her.” The picture of Thea and Emily flashed across the screen. “And them.”

A picture of all four Hawthorne brothers. “And her.” The picture of Eve.

“This. Is. A. Mess.” Thea moved her body with each word, a captivating dance that made all of this seem less calculated. “But,” she continued, “they’re my mess. And those rumors about Grayson and Jameson Hawthorne and my dead best friend? They aren’t true.” Thea leaned toward the camera, until her face took up the whole screen. “And I know they’re not true because I’m the one who started them.”

The video ended abruptly, and Xander leaned his head back against the seat. “She is by far the most magnificent and terrifying individual I have ever fake dated.”

Eve gave him a look. “You fake date a lot?”

She seemed so normal. I hadn’t found anything on her phone. But I had to keep my guard up.

Didn’t I?





CHAPTER 51

Rebecca answered the door before we even had a chance to knock. “My mom’s right through there,” she told Eve quietly. Taking a deep breath, Eve walked past Rebecca.

“On a scale of one to pi,” Xander murmured, “how bad is it?”

Rebecca pulled her hand from his and laid three fingers on his palm. Her normally creamy skin was red and chapped around her nailbeds and knuckles.

Three, on a scale of one to pi. Given the value of pi, that definitely wasn’t good.

Rebecca led Xander and me from the small entryway into the living room, where Eve and her mother were. The first thing I noticed were the snow globes sitting on a shelf. They looked like they had been polished until they gleamed. In fact, everything that I could see looked freshly cleaned, like it had been scrubbed and scrubbed again.

Rebecca’s hands. I wondered if the cleaning had been her idea—or her mother’s.

“Rebecca, this was supposed to be a family affair.” Mallory Laughlin didn’t take her eyes off Eve, even once Xander and I came into view.

Rebecca looked down, ruby-red hair falling into her face. She always looked like the kind of person an artist would want to paint. Even partially obscured, there was something fairy-tale beautiful about the pain on her face.

Eve reached out to take her grandmother’s hand. “I’m the one who asked Avery to come with me. Toby… he considers her family, too.”

Ouch. If Eve had meant that as a guilt trip, it was both brutal and effective.

“That’s ridiculous.” Mallory sat, and when Eve did the same, Mallory leaned toward her, drinking in her presence like a woman gulping down sand in a desert mirage. “Why would my son pay that girl any attention when you’re right here?” She lifted a hand to the side of Eve’s face. “When you’re so perfect.”

Beside me, Rebecca sucked a breath in around her teeth.

“I know I look like your daughter,” Eve murmured. “This must be difficult.”

“You look like me.” Rebecca’s mom smiled. “Emily did, too. I remember when she was born. I looked at her, and all I could think was that she was me. Emily was mine, and nobody was ever going to take her away from me. I told myself that she would never want for anything.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Eve said quietly.

“Don’t be sorry,” Mallory replied, a sob in her voice. “You’ve come back to me now.”

“Mom.” Rebecca cut in without ever looking up from the floor. “We talked about this.”

“And I’ve told you that I don’t need you or anyone else to infantilize me.” Mallory’s reply was sharp enough to slice through glass. “The world is like that, you know.” The woman oriented back toward Eve, sounding more maternal. “You have to learn to take what you want—and never, ever let someone take what you don’t want to give.” Mallory laid a hand on Eve’s cheek. “You’re strong. Like me. Like Emily was.”

This time, there was no audible response from Rebecca. I bumped my shoulder gently against hers, a silent, deliberate I’m here. I wondered if Xander felt as useless as I did standing there, watching her oldest scars seeping.

“Can I ask you something?” Eve said to Mallory.

Mallory smiled. “Anything, sweet girl.”

“You’re my grandmother. Is your husband here? Is he my grandfather?”

Mallory’s reply was controlled. “We don’t need to talk about that.”

“All I’ve ever wanted is to know where I come from,” Eve told her.

“Please?”