Page 66 of The Golden Hour

Oh, Ellie… no wonder you stay away as much as you can.

I take a small step backward. “So what you told me earlier, about writing being your dream, you were lying?”

Her brows lift. “Throwing stones, really? We all play our parts, wear the masks we have to in order to be who we need to be.”

“Why tell me now?”

She shrugs. “I liked how you handled Franco today. Sure, he’s family, but he’s also a snake. Seeing your true colors made me want to take the risk of trusting you. And if you’re serious about following in Mom’s footsteps, someone had to tell you the truth. I’m your baby sister, so I figured it would be best if it came from me.”

I take another step back. “And what is the truth, exactly?”

“The same as it’s always been. We live in service to this family. And if someone betrays us… Well, that’s where I come in.” Twirling the scalpel deftly in her fingers, she walks back to the toolbox and tosses it inside, then closes the lid.

I breathe a silent sigh of relief.

“Now that that’s out of the way, wanna make cookies?” Skipping to my side, she grabs my hand. “Last year I found Grandma’s old recipe for double chocolate buried behind the cookbooks. That was your favorite, wasn’t it?”

I smile while my heart shatters inside me.

“It was, and I’d love to.”

35

My first instinct when I return to my room an hour later is to call Finn and scream at him to get me out of here. Instead, I stumble to the toilet and throw up the three cookies I managed to swallow past a dry throat. When there’s nothing left, I sink to the cool tiles, curl into a ball, and weep.

I can’t call Finn. Not now, when there’s a risk he’ll be targeted like David was. David. He went out that night because he thought I needed him. All the possibilities of his young life… snuffed out. By Lizzie.

My empty stomach roils, rebelling, trying to eject what I’ve learned. Denial rises—it can’t be true. She was playing with me. There’s an explanation. Maybe she knows I faked my abduction and is getting back at me.

But I know it’s real. I felt her wrongness. My skin crawled with the primal recognition that the person across from me was fundamentally off. It’s the same way I feel when I’m alone with Enzo, and exactly why I’ve avoided him most of my life.

Oh, Lizzie…

My thoughts cycle inward, all my pain focusing into self-loathing. How could I have missed the signs? I was seventeen when she killed for the first time. Between navigating early adulthood, high school, hormones, and increasing displacement in the family, I was, in a word, self-absorbed. When did she start changing? Did she try to reach out to me? Did I brush her off one too many times, causing her to seek support elsewhere?

No.

No.

This isn’t my fault. As far as my own young mind could ascertain, Lizzie was normal. Charming and precocious. She didn’t hurt animals—that I know of. Sure, she was sometimes shockingly blunt in her opinions and hurtful in her lack of empathy. There were more than a few times Ellie or I were reduced to tears by her assessment of our hair or fumbling attempts at makeup. But that’s sisters, right?

No.

That whispered voice builds, gaining power. No. Lizzie needs help. A place where she’ll be given the professional attention she needs. Somewhere she’ll be safe—and somewhere the world at large will be kept safe from her.

And there’s only one way to do it.

Stick to the plan.

* * *

I take special care with my appearance in the morning, smoothing concealer under my eyes, applying mascara and lip gloss, and pinning back the sides of my hair. I wear a casual summer jumpsuit picked by Vivian’s stylist and nude heels. Dab perfume at my wrists. Practice my smile in the mirror until it doesn’t hurt so much.

You are strong.

You are brave.

For better or worse, you’re an Avellino.

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