Perfect Lies

by Kiersten White

  I stand and stomp out of the room. The one bonus to all this is that we didn’t have to lie. Pixie and I decided not to tell them exactly what Sadie could do, just that we saw the tail end of her being forced into a car and couldn’t stop it.

  Couldn’t.

  COULDN’T.

  I hate couldn’t. I hate it so much I want to hurt someone. I want to hurt Sandy blond who threatened Annie. I want to hurt everyone associated with the Lerner group, everyone I trusted. I trusted them! It was right to trust them! And trusting them meant Sarah died, meant she was destroyed. Trusting them means Sadie still isn’t safe, won’t ever be safe.

  I gave Annie to them. Maybe even to Rafael, if he wasn’t lying.

  I gave Annie to Rafael. No I didn’t. I KILLED ANNIE. I KILLED HER.

  I walk into the women’s bathroom. Kick a stall door so hard it cracks.

  Scream.

  Slam the heel of my palm into the mirror, watch it shatter, watch my reflection break into pieces. A slivered and silvered distortion, all broken and jagged and ruined.

  “Fia!”

  I turn to see Pixie staring at me. I don’t know how long she’s been in here. “Fia,” she says, her voice careful. “You need to calm down, okay?”

  “I’m calm,” I answer, raising an eyebrow at her. “Why wouldn’t I be calm?”

  “It’ll be okay.”

  I laugh, and it is broken and jagged like the mirror. “No big deal. I’m pissed because this failure will probably cost me employee of the year. I really wanted a plaque. My name etched on it next to a bad picture.”

  She opens her mouth, and I want to shove my bloodied hand over it, want to smash her into the wall, want to keep her from saying whatever soft things she wants to say. She is just like Annie. She is a liar. She will tell me and tell me and tell me and tell me that everything will be okay, and it’s a lie, it’s always a lie.

  She takes a step back, pain and hurt written around her eyes. She wears leather and metal armor, but she’s a kid. She’s a stupid kid, and she doesn’t understand any of this and she doesn’t know anything, she doesn’t know.

  She can never know.

  Actually, no. If she stays here long enough, she’ll know. She’ll know, and then she’ll be the broken doll she already looks like. You want to play here, Pixie? You want to know what it really means to be a part of all this? You want thoughts to pull out of my head and report back to Keane? I’ll give you thoughts.

  She leans against the black-tiled wall, stares past me at the shattered mirror. “There’s an artist in Asheville, where I’m from. She works in mosaic. Takes broken pieces of mirrors and fits them back into patterns. I have one. It looks like a starburst, the pieces rearranged to shine outward like rays of light.”

  I narrow my eyes. “It’s still a broken mirror. It’s ruined. It’s useless.”

  She shrugs, still not looking at me. “It’s broken, yeah. But it’s beautiful. And it means something to me when I look at it, even if I can’t see myself clearly in it anymore.”

  I’m overwhelmed with the impulse to go over to her, to let her hug me, to cry on her shoulder. Is it an instinct? Is it right? Is it wrong?

  “I’m on your side,” she says, smiling sadly. “You’re the only friend I have.”

  I pick up one of the thick, folded paper towels. Smear my blood across it, wad it into a ball, and drop it in the sink. I don’t trust this impulse, I don’t trust her, I don’t trust me. No. I only trust me. No. I am the last person I can trust. I am the only person I can trust. I tap tap tap tap a fingernail against the sink, consider the spiderweb of my reflection.

  “Here’s the thing, Pixie. I don’t have a side. I work here. Just like you. And I don’t ever forget that.” My phone rings, and I pull it out of my pocket. James. James will know what to do. He’ll tell me. We’ll do it together.

  “Please,” Pixie says, desperate. “If I wanted to hurt you, I’d have already done it. You gave your secrets away before I ever listened in your head and realized you haven’t killed the people you say you did. Tap tap tap tap, Fia. Four taps. But you’ve killed six people. Two with the bomb. Clarice. Adam. Annie. Eden. It wouldn’t even be my word against yours. All they’d have to do is look and they’d see the truth.”

  I cock my head, consider. She’s right. I could laugh at how careless I’ve been. “Are you threatening me?”

  “No! I’m telling you to be more careful! I care about you. But James is destroying you. He lets you think you have the same goals, but he wants nothing that you do. He was working with Rafael, building his own group to rival his father’s. He has been this entire time, playing Lerner, playing his father, building so that he can take over and create the exact same thing his father already has. He’s not going to stop anything. You’re just building an empire for a new Keane.”

  I have her slammed up against the wall before she can blink.

  “You know nothing,” I snarl. Nothing. You know nothing, and you are nothing, and you mean nothing to me or anyone else. No one in the whole world cares about you. I say a word, a single word, and you are the next overdosed girl floating dead in the river.

  She whimpers.

  I lean my forehead against hers, close my eyes. My voice comes out even, soft. “Stay out of it. I really don’t want to hurt you.”

  I leave the bathroom before she can read me, before she can realize that I am lying, that I am nothing but a lie. I do, I care, I care so much and it terrifies me, and I don’t want to care about her because when I care people get hurt.

  The people we love are the ones with the power to destroy us.

  James is all I have. I chose James. He has to be right. Please let him be right.

  ANNIE

  Twenty-eight Days Before

  WE SIT, A SILENT, MISERABLE GROUP. THE HOTEL SUITE has adjoining rooms, and the walls are thin enough to make out most of what Rafael and Cole are shouting at each other. I had been worried about what would happen when I saw Rafael again after our kiss, but it’s funny how trivial something like that is now.

  As much as I want to mourn Sarah, part of me is livid. I’m furious with her, furious that she made those choices, that she forced Fia’s hand like that. I have no idea what this will do to my sister.

  No, that’s wrong. I know exactly what this will do, and this time I’m not there to take care of her. Please, James. Whatever goodness you have in you, whatever humanity—please take care of Fia. Don’t let her hurt herself.

  “I just don’t understand,” Adam says, anguish soaking his voice. “Why would Sarah do that?”

  “She was on amphetamines, right?” Eden asks. She’s sitting next to me, and I’m curled into her, my head resting on her shoulder.

  She told me she stayed because they threatened to kill her mom. It was the hardest choice she’d ever had to make, because she loved me more than she ever loved her mom, and betraying my memory to protect that woman was torture. But now that Eden’s dead, too, we can be together. I shouldn’t be so grateful, considering everything that was lost for this to happen, but I won’t let Eden go again.

  It took us a few days of hotel hopping before we all got to the same place and felt safe enough to meet. Sadie has barely spoken five words to any of us. She also hasn’t showered, and I can smell her from across the room. Someone needs to take care of her, help her, but we’re all so shell-shocked by what happened. At least she seems calm and resigned to being with us.

  Eden continues. “I’ve seen some of our girls on it. It can make you paranoid, even trigger brief psychotic episodes.”

  Apparently Cole feels the same, given the accusations he’s hurling at Rafael.

  “Get away from her,” Eden snaps.

  “What?” Nathan says. I wish he weren’t here.

  “Don’t get anywhere near Sadie. She doesn’t want you to.”

  “I think she can talk for herself.”

  “I think you can take a flying leap off the balcony for all I care. Just stay away from h
er, you’re making her nervous.”

  Nathan mutters something under his breath, but we’re interrupted by the door opening.

  “Well,” Rafael says, his voice artificially bright. “We’ve got to decide what to do next. Obviously we can’t all stay together. Adam, it’s easiest if you’re with me. So, Cole, you and Eden can take Sadie to a safe house, and I’ll take Adam and Annie.”

  “No.” Sadie’s voice is lower than I expect it to be, almost husky. “I want to stay with Annie.”

  I’m surprised by this, but pleased. Someone needs to take care of her, so I’ll be that someone. It’s about time I had someone to take care of again. “Okay,” I say.

  Rafael sounds patient as he’s talking to Sadie, but something is off. “I don’t think it’s safe for you and me to be in the same location, since they might be looking for us. Why don’t you explain exactly what you can do, and we can decide where the best place is for you.”

  Then it hits me. Rafael uses a different tone of voice when he’s talking to women. His accent masked it, and, if I’m being honest, I liked flirting with him too much to notice. It’s not obviously condescending and skeezy like Nathan, but it’s there.

  That detail feels like sand on my skin, irritating and impossible to brush away. “It’s okay. I’ll go with Sadie.”

  Eden takes my hand and draws casually in my palm. I wonder what she’s doing until I realize she’s forming letters.

  What is wrong?

  “Eden, can you show me where the bathroom is?” I ask.

  She stands, taking my arm, and leads me through a room. We close the door behind ourselves. “You’re worried. What?”

  “I don’t know. I’m confused. I’m so worried about Fia. And I don’t know how to feel about things here. Rafael is . . . I don’t think I had him figured out the way I thought I did.”

  “Yeah, he’s a puzzle. You were distracted by his accent, weren’t you?”

  I laugh. “Shut up. Okay, yes. I was. Listen, I’ll stay with Sadie. I feel responsible, you know? But I worry about Adam.”

  “He seems like a good guy.”

  “He is. But . . .” I tell her about the vision that started all this. “I think he needs to be watched. Would you—this is awful, I don’t want to be separated from you, but would you stay with him?”

  She sighs. “I just barely got you back. But this is important to you. I’ll do it. And I’ll try to feel out Rafael better.”

  I hug her. “Thank you.”

  “Seriously though, this company is wasted on you. Adam is all nerd hot, Rafael has that whole Latin lover vibe going, and even Cole is smoking. It’s kind of a slow build, you know? At first he looks pretty average, but then he’s got this incredible intensity in his stares, and his body is rocking. I should have joined Lerner ages ago.”

  I laugh. “You’ll get no argument on that point. I’m so, so glad you are here.”

  “Me, too. But they’re going to start wondering why you need so much help in the bathroom. I’ll head back and volunteer to stick with Adam and Rafael. Rafael thinks I’m very attractive—which I am, obviously—so he won’t have an issue with it.”

  “Wait, when you said you were going to try to feel out Rafael better, did you mean emotionally, or did you mean literally?”

  Her laugh is downright evil as she closes the door and leaves me in the bathroom.

  Already missing her, I follow a few minutes later.

  “I go with Annie and Sadie,” Cole says.

  “I think you’ve earned a vacation,” Rafael says. “After what happened to Sarah. I know how close you two were. Nathan can get Annie and Sadie to a safe house.”

  “No!” My response is too strong and too fast, but I can’t help it. “No offense, Nathan, but I don’t like you.”

  “Why would that offend me?” he asks, voice dark.

  “I’d rather be with Cole. Is that okay, Sadie?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  “Is it?”

  “She’s nodding,” Eden says. “Sweetie, you’ve got to remember to say yes or no. Okay. I feel like we should have a team cheer or something.” She pulls me into a hug and I squeeze her as tight as I can.

  “Take care of yourself,” she says.

  “You, too.”

  Adam gives me a quick hug, and then Rafael gives me a much less quick hug. “Are you sure?” he whispers against my ear.

  “I’m sure. I owe it to Sadie.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Let’s get going,” Cole says. He takes my elbow and the three of us walk out of the room.

  I try to broach the subject as casually as I can while Cole is out buying food and supplies. “Hey, Sadie, you want the first shower?” It’s been a week since we left Rafael and co., and we’ve been traveling in a random pattern, never deciding beforehand where we’ll go. Cole wants to give us a few weeks of unpredictability before we settle at a safe house.

  Sadie has not showered once.

  I’ve tried to draw her out into conversation to no avail. She’s like traveling with a ghost. A ghost with BO.

  “I can’t,” she whispers.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t have my gloves.”

  I frown. “You need gloves for the shower?”

  “I can’t touch myself.”

  “I’m sorry. I really don’t understand.”

  “When I touch myself, I see things. It hurts. I don’t want to see them. I had shower gloves at home, so I wasn’t touching my own skin. It’s not as bad as when I touch other people, but it’s still too much.”

  I sit on the bed across from her. “Wait, you see things when you touch people?”

  “Yes.”

  “So when I touched your face . . .”

  “She killed you.” Sadie moves closer, her voice getting more intense. “She killed you—I saw it. And then that other girl, the one who looks like you, killed her. The things I see, they never change. Never. So how come you’re not dead?”

  I smile sadly. “That other girl? She’s my sister. Fia has a way of changing things. She can’t help it. Nothing’s ever set in stone where Fia’s concerned.”

  “So your visions . . .”

  I shrug. “They aren’t always right. Sometimes I see them wrong. Sometimes they change.”

  “It’s not fate, then. What you see.” Hope lightens her voice, just a bit.

  “I don’t think so. And I’ll get you some shower mitts. When you need things, please ask. If anyone understands weird requests, it’s us.”

  She’s quiet, and then she hurriedly says, “I’m nodding. Thank you.”

  When Cole returns, Sadie’s made a list for him, and he goes right back out. By the time he’s finished it’s late, but the shower is running and I collapse on the bed, relieved. “Oh, thank goodness. Being in a car with her was horrible. Poor little thing.”

  Cole sighs, and I feel the bed shift as he sits next to me. “Every time she touches anyone? Including herself?”

  “Yup. Sucks to be her.”

  His breathing slows, gets even, and I think he’s falling asleep. I take a pillow and start sliding off the bed, but his hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. “I’ll take the floor,” he says.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “I’m sorry for so much more. I know how stressed out I make you. And—” My throat catches. “I’m so sorry about Sarah. I can’t help feeling like it was my fault. Please don’t tell me it wasn’t.”

  Cole’s voice comes out softer than I’ve ever heard it. There’s no edge, none of the sharp steel and stone I know in it. “I’m sorry about her, too. But it wasn’t your fault.”

  He lets go of my wrist and moves to the floor. Lying on the bed, I have a sudden, overwhelming urge to crawl off and curl up next to him. It hits me how much I’ve come to depend on him, but it’s different than it was with Fia. I feel like depending on him makes me stronger, not more helpless.

  “T
hank you,” I whisper, and the words hang on the air between us. It’s not enough, but I can’t figure out how to voice anything else.

  By the time Sadie comes out I’m half asleep, but the scent of shampoo and soap makes me smile as I drift off.

  I’m woken as light bursts behind my eyes.

  In the vision, Sadie is on a black leather couch in a window-lined room. There’s a glass door open to a balcony overlooking a skyscraper-filled skyline. She’s curled into the corner of the couch, legs tucked protectively in front of her chest. Her face is empty as she stares at the floor.

  A heavy door opens and two people enter the room. One, carefully handsome James, something tight and frightened around his eyes but not showing in his broad smile.

  The other is Phillip Keane.

  And then a third person comes in and my heart twists to see Fia, my Fia, but something is wrong with her. She looks from Sadie to Phillip Keane and back again, slides along the wall next to the door. James gives her a sharp, expectant expression.

  The line of her eyes shifts them into a shape I don’t recognize.

  Something is very, very wrong with Fia.

  Phillip Keane smiles his soulless robot smile, and says, “Hello, Sadie.”

  Fia spasms once, twice, as though she can’t quite move. Then she pushes Phillip Keane out of the way, jumps in front of Sadie, and stabs her in the chest.

  Sadie looks down, her eyes sad but not surprised.

  “She was going to—” Fia stands up straight, drops the knife. “She was going to—kill—she was going to kill . . .” Fia looks back at James, her blue eyes pleading and impossibly sad, and then something in them dies. Fia’s expression drops away and she drifts to the balcony.

  “Fia?” James says, his voice tight with panic.

  Fia climbs onto the stone railing and jumps off.

  FIA

  Eleven Hours Before

  I DON’T CALL JAMES UNTIL I’M OUT ON THE SIDEWALK, weaving through the masses of people, losing my security tail without much effort.

  “Why didn’t you answer?” He sounds panicked.