You Are Not Alone(105)

A dull roaring sound floods my ears; I’m so dizzy I have to concentrate to simply walk in a straight line.

I look around for the police as I grip the railing and slowly begin to descend the steps. But I don’t see them.

Unease fills my body.

Though people are on the street above me, the stairs are empty.

Even though that’s not unusual at this time of night on a weekday, my legs are trembling, and I almost miss a step.

As I reach the landing, a woman hurries toward me, as if she is rushing up to exit.

But instead of passing me, she spins around and grabs my arm above the elbow, hard, causing pain to shoot down my forearm. At the same moment, I feel something hard press into my waist.

I know even before I glimpse her face that it’s Valerie.

We were here together, in this precise spot, only weeks ago. Valerie held my arm then, too, as she laughed and joked and got me over my fear of the subway.

But she was wearing a friendly mask then. Tonight I see her real face.

Her expression is composed, yet her brown eyes glitter. “Shay, come with me. We’re going to take a ride.”

My heart begins to thud. My body is limp with terror.

“The police are here!” I blurt. “I’m meeting them!”

“Sorry I had to trick you to get you here, Shay.” But it’s not Valerie’s voice coming out of her mouth. It’s Detective Santiago’s heavy New York accent.

Then she smiles.

If I was scared of Valerie before, now I’m terrified.

Valerie begins to walk toward the platform, maintaining the painful pressure near my elbow joint. I have no choice but to keep pace with her; I haven’t looked down yet, but I’m certain she’s pressing a gun against my torso.

A man carrying a briefcase passes us going the other way and I try to catch his eye, but he’s looking down at his phone. Even if he did see us, what would he notice? We look like two girlfriends huddled close together, maybe because of the cold, heading out to a late dinner or concert.

We approach the platform. “Look, Shay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Half a dozen people are milling around—a few businesspeople, a young woman wearing bulky headphones, and a mom absently rolling a pink stroller back and forth. But they all seem lost in their own thoughts.

Valerie’s voice is soft and gentle now; I’d almost believe her if I didn’t know what she is capable of. “Cassandra and Jane and I just need to talk to you.”

It’s eerily quiet down here, between the rush of trains.

“I know you and Cassandra and Jane are sisters, and that you had a stepbrother named James.” My lips are so dry and rigid it’s hard to form the words. “But why did you set me up for his murder?”

“Cassandra and Jane want you to know it was nothing personal.”

Valerie leads me farther down the platform, by the support beam. She pulls me to a stop not far from where Amanda stood when I first glimpsed her, then positions herself directly behind me.

Time seems to be slowing down. I’m acutely aware of my breath shuddering in and out of my lungs and what must be a gun against my ribs as Valerie adjusts it a little higher.

I could jerk away from her and try to run back up the stairs. I read somewhere that it’s difficult to shoot a moving target. But I’m so weak and my brain is so foggy that I can’t risk it. I’ll never be able to outrun her. Plus that little pink stroller is somewhere behind me … if Valerie fires her gun, the bullet could go anywhere. With so much metal down here it might ricochet.

Valerie’s hair brushes against my cheek as she leans closer to me. “Come, Cassandra and Jane are waiting for us. We’ll get this all sorted out as soon as we see them.”

The LED display shows the next train is due in two minutes.

A woman in gym clothes strolls toward us, appearing bored, one of her hands in her pocket and the other swinging free.

“Not a word,” Valerie whispers, her breath warm against my ear.

But the woman isn’t even looking at us. It’s like no one in this city sees me.

I glance around. There’s no escape. I feel a faint vibration beneath my feet.

One minute, the LED light announces.

The woman is closer now, but she’s glancing at something back in the shadows beneath the overhang of the stairs. She casually raises her right hand, running it over the top of her hair, as if smoothing out her ponytail.

My body is completely rigid as I hear the rumbling of the train.

Valerie takes a big step, forcing me toward the edge of the platform.

Too close.

Suddenly I know what she intends to do. Cassandra and Jane aren’t waiting for us. Valerie wants this to look like I committed suicide; she’s replicating Amanda’s last moments.

She’s truly trying to turn me into Amanda.

Valerie’s gun is digging into me, and the oncoming train is almost in front of me. I’m trapped between two horrible fates.

The thunder of the train fills my ears.

Then I hear a shout: “Police! Valerie Ricci, put your hands up!”

The command comes from behind us. Valerie’s head whips around as she twists slightly away from me and momentarily lowers her gun.

In that moment my instincts take over, marshaling every bit of my remaining strength as my legs and core tighten and keep twisting, continuing the rotation as I pull Valerie in a half circle with me. Then I ram my elbow into her chest, pushing her away from me.