Chapter 6

When night drank up the last of the sun's rays, I locked myself in my room. Leland went back to his office after dinner. The last time I looked, Mom stood with her hands perched on her hips, staring at Vivian's map and adjusting the pushpins because another fake postcard had arrived today. The bodyguards were outside somewhere, just in case Mr. Blue came back.

I climbed into bed with my shoes on. The rubber tips snagged on the sheets, but I pushed them down farther. Maybe they'd help me outrun the nightmares that were sure to come after today.

I'd stopped seeing my shrink a long time ago. There were better ways to deal with my mistakes. Running, for one, and keeping everything tucked inside the padlock on my necklace, which I hadn't opened in years.

My bedside lamp threw glimmers on all my track medals and trophies around my room. It also cast a circle on the poster hanging on the ceiling. The reflection surrounded a lone runner starting up the slope of an extreme hill in the middle of a forest. The caption below read All That Stands in the Way of You and the Other Side is You. Vivian got it for me for my fifteenth birthday. She went missing before my sixteenth, soon after she got married.

I switched off the lamp, but the moon through my window lit up the Other Side is You. Like two sides of the same coin. How fitting. On the day before I was supposed to pretend to be my sister. By "supposed to," I meant I was doing it. No matter what Mom said.

More information will come. Well, bring it already.

With a sigh, I rolled over. I should've felt tired, but I didn't. Which was good because I didn't want nightmares crowding my dreams.

Something moved across the window.

My breath snagged in my throat. I sat up, my heart racing.

A shadow. Someone stood outside. My body tensed. Something white drifted across the window, then smacked against the glass. Paper...like what Ryan used.

Ryan. I wrapped the corner of the sheet on my bed around my fingers, then unwound it. A smile teased heat from my cheeks. What was he doing here? At night. Outside my bedroom. With bodyguards outside.

I got up from the twists of blankets and crept towards the window. But what if it wasn't him? My shoe hovered above its next step. I couldn't stand there and hesitate forever, but my feet weren't moving. That was a first. But what if it was him?

My lack of balance won the debate, and my foot came down. I took a step closer. A drawing emerged on the piece of paper. A head shaded a light green color with wide, empty eyes stared back at me over a mouth that lolled open. Its neck spewed blood from a deep gash. A bubble pointed to its mouth, and inside, it read I COME IN PIECES.

I snorted. Ragged holes lined the side of the paper, like it had been torn from a notebook. It had to be Ryan. I slid the window open, thankful it didn't squeak.

Ryan grinned up at me from his crouch below the frame. He still wore sunglasses, even at night. Just...weird.

"What's up?" he asked.

"What are you doing out there? Someone might see you," I hissed.

He stood and shook his head. "Your bedroom faces the backyard," he whispered. "One of your guards is in the front smoking, and the other is on the phone in the living room. As long as we're quiet" - he rested an arm against the window ledge - "no one will know."

My heart skipped like rocks over water at the undercurrent of his words. "But why are you here?"

"I came to see if you were all right." He tilted his head, studying me. "Are you?" The moon caught the blond in his hair and ignited it with light. A black T-shirt drew tight across his chest with the words The Evil Dead printed on the front. He wore a gray flannel over it, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. They were well-muscled, but not overly so. I'd never stared at a guy's forearms before, but there I was, staring. His were...sexy.

Sexy forearms were apparently a thing with me. Who knew?

"I'm fine," I said, dragging my gaze away. "Did you start the fire?"

"What fire?"

"The one at school."

He shook his head. "There was no fire at school. Just lots of smoke."

"What did you have in your backpack?"

A smile played across his mouth, and he tried to wipe it away on the back of his hand. "The usual."

"How did you find me through all that smoke?"

"Why didn't you run when you heard the alarm?"

I backed away from the window and crossed my arms. "That's none of your business." The words hurled from my mouth.

"Shh. Okay." Ryan reached through the window for my shoulder and sent a tingle with his touch. "It's none of my business." He whipped out a picture from his back pocket of a young black girl around my age with high cheekbones and exotic dark eyes. Dozens of long, thin braids divided her hair. "Do you know this girl?"

"She looks sort of familiar." I took the picture and tilted it towards the moon. "But it's hard to see for sure. Why?"

"That's Shane's sister, Kendra. She told me to give that to you and to make sure you read the back."

"The back?" I turned it over.

The press conference starts at one. Be at the drug store on the end of your street at nine.

"But..." I looked up at Ryan, but he had already vanished.