One of Us Is Next(97)

Then I read to the bottom of the page.


Jared: This game is genius. You can make people do whatever you want.

Jared: Doesn’t matter how strange it is, people will do it.

Phoebe: The more bazaar the better right? lol



I swallow my gasp just in time. My heart starts pounding, so hard that it’s physically painful, as I read the last sentence again. Not bizarre. Bazaar. I glance at Emma, whose face has gone red and splotchy. When her eyes meet mine, I know she’s seen it too.

I’m frozen in my chair. I have absolutely no idea what to say or do. I just keep thinking about all the little things that meant nothing until now: My sneaky brother always listening at our doors.

My tech-savvy brother networking all our devices.

My lonely brother hanging out at Café Contigo, where Maeve told Bronwyn what happened between her and Knox.

My scared brother watching Brandon insult me.

My sad brother saying Our family is ruined after Emma and I fought about Brandon.

And, oh yeah. My spelling bee champion brother making a rare yet memorable error. The reunion between “Phoebe” and Jared happened before I’d had the chance to correct him.

I’m starting to feel light-headed and take a deep, steadying breath as I mentally slot my brother into the events of the past few weeks. He fits. Owen could have been monitoring Emma’s conversations with Jared all along—everything from our father’s accident, to plans for the Truth or Dare game, to Emma’s decision to pull out. And when she did, he could’ve easily stepped in. He probably would have been a lot more careful about covering his tracks than Emma was, too. The whole thing must have seemed like a video game to him: the ultimate Bounty Wars challenge, planning one move after the other.

Right up until Brandon died.

Emma lays the sheet of paper on the table so carefully that you’d have to be watching closely to see her hand tremble. “Can I see the last page, please?” she asks. “The very end of the transcripts?”

Martin thumbs through the sheaf he’s holding and hands it to her. “Correspondence stops the day Brandon Weber died,” he says.

I force myself not to look at Emma as we both start to read:


Phoebe: That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Jared: Sure it was. It’s what you wanted.

Phoebe: I…don’t think I did.

Jared: He deserved it. It’s done. You’re welcome.

Jared: But we’re only half finished. Now it’s my turn.

Jared: Hello?????

Jared: Say something.

Jared: Don’t you dare fucking ghost me.



Then it ends. I don’t move except to shift my gaze toward Emma, waiting for her reaction. She meets my eyes again, and for the first time in years, we have a conversation with no words. Just like we used to when we were kids, reading the thoughts written across one another’s faces. Invisible to anyone else, but perfectly clear to us.

Emma glances down, notices the undone button on her oxford shirt, and neatly fastens it. Then she looks up, pale now but composed, and pushes the transcript toward Martin. “I think my mother is right,” she says. “Jared is delusional. This is nothing more than him talking to himself once I stopped speaking to him. And nobody can prove differently, can they?”





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


One of us is lucky, and by that, I mean me. In my third book, I not only got the chance to revisit characters and a setting that I love, but I did it with the same phenomenal publishing team that has supported me from the start.

Endless thanks to Rosemary Stimola and Allison Remcheck for seeing the spark of possibility in that early query for One of Us Is Lying and for guiding this sequel (along with my career) with such insight and care. There’s no one I’d rather have in my corner.

Krista Marino, sometimes I try to imagine what my books would look like without your editorial brilliance, but that’s too terrifying a thought for this thriller writer to contemplate for very long. Thank you for helping me find the beating heart of “the Maeve book” and build a story that could both follow its older sibling and stand on its own.

Delacorte Press—where do I start? I’m so thankful to Barbara Marcus, Beverly Horowitz, and Judith Haut for giving my books, and me, such a wise and welcoming home. I’m constantly in awe of all the talented, dedicated professionals I have the pleasure of working with on a daily basis, including Monica Jean, Kathy Dunn, Dominique Cimina, Kate Keating, Elizabeth Ward, Kelly McGauley, Adrienne Weintraub, Felicia Frazier, Becky Green, Enid Chaban, Kimberly Langus, Kerry Milliron, Colleen Fellingham, Heather Lockwood Hughes, Alison Impey, Kenneth Crossland, Martha Rago, Tracy Heydweiller, Linda Palladino, and Denise DeGennaro.

Thank you to the incredible staff of Penguin UK, especially Holly Harris, Francesca Dow, Ruth Knowles, Amanda Punter, Harriet Venn, Simon Armstrong, Gemma Rostill, and Kat Baker, for being my literary home away from home. I hope we publish many more books together, and not only because that will mean more personalized cupcakes.

Thanks also to Jason Dravis, my amazing film agent, and to the agents who helped this book find homes around the world: Clementine Gaisman and Alice Natali of Intercontinental Literary Agency, Bastian Schlueck at Thomas Schlueck Agency, and Charlotte Bodman at Rights People. Thank you also to John Saachi and Matt Groesch of 5 More Minutes Productions and Pete Ryan and Erica Rand Silverman at Stimola Literary Studio. Huge shout-out to my amazing critique partners Erin Hahn, Meredith Ireland, and Kit Frick for helping me make sense of early drafts, and for being generally awesome people and friends.