My pulse raced at the sound of her inputting numbers on the keypad outside, and then the garage door shuddered to life. It was heavy. No wonder I hadn’t been able to budge it. My eyes darted to the ground, searching for Caitlyn’s feet.
But nothing.
Tense, I waited as the door lifted to halfway. Still no sign of her.
Finally, when it got to chest height, I saw she was on the other side of the corridor, her back to another storage door. Gun in hand, pointed at me.
The door cleared into the ceiling, and I stared balefully at her.
She smirked. “I thought you might be a bit testy after your night in a new place, so I thought it prudent to put a little distance between us.” Caitlyn waved the gun. “Back up, sit on the bed.”
I’d never felt truly violent toward anyone before. But at that moment, I didn’t care if she needed help. I wanted to rip off her face.
Backing up until I hit the bed, I sat down, spine rigid.
Caitlyn sauntered in and threw a white paper bag toward me. “Croissant from your favorite patisserie.”
I didn’t even look at it. She huffed. “Please tell me you ate and had something to drink.” At my silence, she scowled. “You have to look after yourself. Eat.” Caitlyn pointed the gun at me. “Now.”
I’m going to end you. Seething, I picked up the bag and pulled out the buttery croissant. It was from my favorite place two blocks from Curiosity. Yet it tasted like ash as I forced myself to swallow, praying she hadn’t drugged it.
“That’s better.” She sighed, relaxing her gun hand. Today she wore her hair in a tight ponytail, and I could see the white lines around the margins of her hair where she’d missed with the fake tan. “Today I’m going to tell you about my childhood. I think it’s important you hear about it so you understand just how alike we really are.”
What? Confused, I reminded her, “You told me yesterday.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No. We didn’t speak yesterday. But we are today. You see, we’re so similar, Ari. My dad is a world-famous director too. My mom is a model. My little sister is the apple of their eye. Of mine too. There’s an age difference, so I kind of raised her.”
Oh my God. “Caitlyn, you’re confused. Don’t you remember what you told me yesterday? About being in foster care. About your mom.”
She blinked, stupefied. “No, I think you’re the one who’s confused. My life is exactly like yours! My childhood is exactly like your childhood. Privileged, with parents who loved me, but the pressure to live up to them, you know. I understand you better than anyone because of it, Ari.”
I gaped at her, probably more terrified at that moment than in the last twenty-four hours combined.
Caitlyn was gone. She’d fully immersed herself in delusion.
“Do you want my life?” I whispered hoarsely, fearing that … “Are you going to kill me?”
Tears filled her eyes. “I would never hurt you unless you made me. Don’t make me. Just … be with me. We’re like sisters. Soul mates. I can be a better sister to you than Allegra can, and you can be a better sister to me than mine can. We’ll share everything. I just … I just need you to stop pushing me away.” Agitated now, Caitlyn stood, anger morphing her despair into something ugly. “And he has to go. North. He’ll only come between us like Lucas did.” She pointed the gun at me. “I only slept with Lucas to be close to you, and you punished me for it.”
I could feel my panic rising, my breath shallowing as I really, truly began to understand just how far gone Caitlyn was. But I grabbed hold of that anxiety and tried to talk myself through it. If getting Caitlyn to admit the truth of her reality had not worked （in fact, it seemed to have pushed her further into her delusion）， then maybe agreeing with her would. “I’m sorry,” I lied. “I took my anger out on the wrong person.”
Her arm dropped, gun at her side. Hope gleamed in her fake green eyes. “That’s right.” A small smile teased her mouth. “Thank you.”
“You were my best friend,” I continued the lie. “I thought Lucas was trying to take you away from me and you were letting him.”
“No.” She shook her head frantically. “How could you think that after all the emails I sent?”
“I didn’t get them. I didn’t get any emails. I swear.”
Caitlyn frowned at the deceit. “I thought you said you did.”
“No. I would have reached out if I thought you were trying.”
“So this …” She glanced around at the storage facility. “I didn’t need to do this?”
“No.” I stood slowly, disbelieving it could be this easy. “Yesterday, I was just so mad at you for not trusting me either, for bringing me here when we could have talked.”
“You told me to get out of the car.” Caitlyn eyed me carefully.
“Because I hadn’t heard from you in two years.” I turned the tables on her. “You disappeared from my life for two years. I didn’t know you were trying to reach out, and I assumed because you slept with Lucas that you didn’t want me to reach out.” Maybe if I could talk her in circles, confuse her, she’d drop the weapon.
Rubbing at her temple with her free hand, I could see her confusion but also her longing for me to want her.
“You’re right,” I pushed gently. “You really are the only one who can understand me. I’m the only one who can understand you.”
I would never know or understand Caitlyn. Why she’d fixated on me. Perhaps she needed to believe that my privileged childhood with beautiful, talented parents had been idyllic. Perhaps, after everything she’d been through, she just wanted so badly to be like me, but also maybe to be loved by someone like me.
“Let me come to you.” I lifted my arms as if to hug her. “Please, let me come to you.”
Her shoulders slumped, gun still in her hand but relaxed at her side. I tried not to look directly at it as I took one step forward and paused. Caitlyn nodded, tears slipping freely down her cheeks now.
Heart in my throat, feeling like any second she might put a bullet in my brain, I tried not to let my fear show as I bridged the distance between us and wrapped her in my arms. She was shorter than me, and she buried her face in my neck as I squeezed her tight and ran a soothing hand down her back. Murmuring calming noises, I tensed ever so slightly when she brought her arms up around me. One fist clenched onto my dress while the cold press of metal touched my bare skin as she rested the gun against me to return the hug.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, pulse increasing as I prepared to fight. “It’s okay.”
Then I struck.
I yanked her head back by the ponytail and then wrapped my hand around her throat, squeezing tight as I turned to grab her gun hand. I got hold of her wrist and pushed her arm away, the gun away, as I squeezed her throat, my nails digging into the skin.
Her face turned purple, her eyes huge with rage, and I startled as the gun went off, a bullet blasting into the ceiling.
Releasing her throat, I got purchase on her shoulder and yanked it back in the wrong direction. I heard something pop as she screamed, and the gun clattered to the ground.