This Lie Will Kill You

by Chelsea Pitcher

  Juniper did. But tears were heavier than lashes, and no matter how hard she blew, the tear wouldn’t budge. Finally Ruby flung the tear into the air, yelling, “Wish!” and by then, the two were laughing so hard, Juniper’s sadness was forgotten. So much that, when Ruby asked, “Why were you sad?” she forced herself to answer.

  “I don’t have any pictures of my great-grandparents,” she said. “All of them were destroyed in a fire.”

  “How did the fire start?”

  “Um . . . my great-grandparents started it,” Juniper began, her chest tightening in fear. She’d never told anyone this story before. “They were born in Cuba. But it wasn’t safe there, so they went on a long, scary adventure, and they ended up here.”

  “Oh! Happy ending,” Ruby said, so simply, like life was a fairy tale. Like every kid had a chamber of secrets in their basement, and seeking refuge in this country didn’t come with consequences.

  “It was a happy ending,” Juniper agreed, staring at her hands. “But it was also dangerous, because if anyone found out they weren’t born here, they could’ve been kicked out, so—”

  “Oh! They burned all the pictures.”

  “Of their family in Cuba, yeah.” Juniper let out a long, slow breath. “Things changed, later on. People decided it was okay for them to stay here because of how bad it was back home. But by then, they’d destroyed all the pictures and”—a hitch in her throat—“I’ll never get them back. My family tree will be short and stumpy, because I can’t even see my family in photographs, let alone meet—”

  “That’s not true.” Ruby’s hands found hers, and it was startling, how perfectly their fingers fit together. Like they’d been made to find each other. “When we grow up, you can come with me to Ireland, and I can come with you to, um . . .”

  “Cuba.”

  “Right! And we’ll be like Indiana Jones, except we’ll be searching for people, and then you can meet your whole family. We’ll go together, okay?”

  Juniper swallowed, breath fluttering in her rib cage. It sounded wonderful. It sounded like a fairy tale, and she really, really wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe they’d travel the world together, and learn each other’s history, and be best friends forever.

  And they would’ve been. They would’ve been in each other’s lives, still, if it hadn’t been for Parker. Parker had swept in, and Parker had stolen Ruby away from her, and Ruby hadn’t even seen how possessive he was. How violent. How familiar.

  But Juniper had seen it. And yeah, maybe that was why she’d called the police when she had. Maybe she’d seen Parker gripping Ruby’s arm, and maybe it had been like history repeating, and maybe she’d snapped. Maybe she’d stayed up sobbing, late into the night, mentally counting down the days until Ruby landed in the hospital (or worse), and maybe she’d done what was necessary to save her friend’s life.

  Now she’d save Ruby again.

  Reaching out, in spite of the danger of being rejected one more time, she took Ruby’s hands. “I’m getting you out of here,” she said. “We’ll have to scream as we’re leaving, so the guys hurry back to this room. They’ll keep Gavin safe while we go for help.”

  “But the cars—”

  “We won’t take the cars. We’ll run to the neighbor’s house and call the police. They’ll get here quickly, this is a nice neighborhood.” She led Ruby to the doors and slid the glass coffee table out of the way. “What do you say? Should we go on one last adventure?”

  Ruby inhaled. Finally, after a torturous eternity, she nodded. “You promise he isn’t coming for us?”

  “I swear,” Juniper said, pressing her ear to the door. She heard nothing. “The ghost of Shane Ferrick is not coming for us.”

  “I know. I just . . . I can’t stop imagining his spirit slipping through the walls. I can’t stop imagining his mother, gliding forward in a white lace dress—”

  Juniper’s head snapped up. “What did you say?”

  “His mother, in the dress—”

  “It was white? You didn’t tell me it was white.”

  “What does it matter?” Ruby’s brow was furrowed, and there was this little crinkle in the top of her nose, like when she was eight. It would’ve been adorable, if Juniper’s heart hadn’t been trying to crawl into her throat.

  “There was a doll upstairs,” she started, and then stopped. How much should she tell? They needed to get out of there. “She was wearing a white lace dress. I thought she looked familiar, because her eyes were blue, but her hair was pale, and it threw off my theory.”

  “What theory? Are you saying you’ve known this entire time?”

  “I told myself it was impossible. I was being paranoid, and anyway, you were trapped with Parker and I couldn’t go running out the door. I couldn’t, and I didn’t have to, because that hair was white and Brianna’s was black.”

  “Brianna?” Ruby’s cheeks had paled, and her lips were parting. Damn it. Juniper shouldn’t have said anything until they were out of the house.

  She reached for the knob.

  And of course, of course, Ruby stopped her. “There was . . . a wig,” she said, placing a hand over Juniper’s. “She was wearing it at the funeral.”

  “She was? God, I don’t even remember. That day is a blur.”

  “A blur of black. But her hair was white. It was hard to see, because she was wearing that veil, but at some point she was sobbing so hard, it slipped. They both slipped, and I thought I saw skin beneath them.”

  “Skin?” Juniper narrowed her eyes, disturbed by the image. “Like her hair had fallen out?”

  “I . . . I can’t be certain, but I know that she was wearing a wig. Why is she still wearing it?” Ruby’s teeth tugged at her lip. “We have to warn Parker. Brett can carry Gavin, and together, we can search the house. There’s probably a study! We’ll find a computer and call the police that way.”

  “Are you hearing yourself? We shouldn’t be going farther into the house! We should be going out the door, and Parker is the last person we should be waiting for. He’s determined to keep you here.”

  “Please, I can’t explain it, but I have a really bad feeling about this. If you go out the door . . .” Ruby paused, lowering her eyes. “If you go past the pool, we both know what’s going to happen.”

  “No, we don’t.” Juniper’s voice was clear, but the rest of her was shaking. She didn’t want to do this now. She didn’t want to do this ever. “We didn’t go to that party. I went—”

  “Along with half the junior class. Everyone saw what you did.” Ruby stepped up close, her breath warm on Juniper’s cheek. “You got Shane wasted and lured him into the pool. You stood over him, laughing, as he sank to the bottom. And when he came up for air, you pushed him back down—”

  “That isn’t what happened!” Juniper’s heart was pounding, and her lungs were struggling for air, as if she was already drowning. Already? No, she thought, shaking herself. Brianna couldn’t push her into the depths, because she hadn’t pushed Shane.

  She had lured him, though. She’d stolen his breath.

  “I don’t have time to defend myself,” she snapped, glancing at the boy on the sofa. “Gavin needs medical attention, and if you won’t come with me to get help, then guard him with your gun. Your loaded gun,” she added, reaching for the door.

  Ruby crossed her arms over her chest. “You won’t leave me here. I know you won’t, because you always try to protect me.”

  Just like that, Juniper’s hopes deflated. She felt herself going round and round again, trapped in an endless spiral of endangering herself to save Ruby. Why else was she here? She’d had her suspicions about the party from the start, and it wasn’t until Ruby confirmed she was going that Juniper decided to attend. She’d had more suspicions, up in the hall, about the portraits changing—the people disappearing in them—and still, she’d stayed behind, because Ruby was trapped in Parker’s bedroom.

  Over and over again, she’d chosen Ruby’s happiness, Ruby’s saf
ety, over her own. Now, at this pivotal moment, she couldn’t go farther into the house. She couldn’t hunker down and wait for the person who had every reason to hate her, had every reason to hate all of them, to come crashing through the doors with a knife. She needed to run, and if Ruby wanted to stay behind, well, Juniper couldn’t force her to go. She’d meant what she’d said about the cops arriving quickly in a neighborhood like this. If she hurried, she could make it to the neighbor’s house in minutes! She could save Ruby and Gavin, without being foolish this time.

  Without putting herself at risk.

  “From the moment I met you, I knew that you were magical,” she said, not looking into Ruby’s eyes. She couldn’t, or she’d convince herself to stay. “I knew that my life was going to change forever, and it did. And even after I’d lost you, even after my heart was broken, you were still my forever friend. And I love you.”

  A tear was forming in Ruby’s lashes, and Juniper could see it. Even without looking into Ruby’s eyes, she could see it. It slid down Ruby’s cheek, and Juniper caught it with her fingers.

  “Make a wish,” she said, flinging the tear into the air.

  Then she opened the doors. Into the hallway she went, with only protests on her heels. She could hear that hers were the only footsteps on the hardwood, could hear that no one was pursuing her. With that single thought, she burst forward, racing through the entryway to the dining room. The room was empty, and so was the patio beyond. She was going to escape. She was going to break the rules for once, instead of following them obsessively. She’d almost reached the patio doors when something caught her eye. Something was sparkling under the light of the chandelier. It was Gavin’s wineglass, and the sight of its shattered remains bothered her more than she could articulate.

  If Brianna was behind the sinister workings of the party, when had she put the drugs in Gavin’s wineglass? Juniper remembered sitting down at the table, dazed by the sight of the pool, and staring at the place settings. Those glasses had been empty. Clean. She would’ve sworn by it, but if that were true, someone else had to have put something in Gavin’s glass.

  Someone who was already in the room.

  Now she felt more than a tickle at the base of her neck. Sharp fingernails were skittering up her spine. She felt breath on her skin, and she spun around, preparing to fight. But no one was standing behind her, and the only signs of life were the footsteps thundering down the stairs. The boys were returning to the first floor, and if Parker saw her trying to leave, he might intervene, like he had with Ruby.

  Parker . . . Juniper paused, catching a glimpse of blond hair at the base of the stairs. Parker had stayed at the table when the rest of them had delivered their cell phones to the little tray. Parker had broken the wineglass and found the note in Gavin’s pocket. Then, when Ruby had wanted to escape, Parker had reminded her that it was dangerous to get into a car. It was dangerous because, one year ago, Shane Ferrick had climbed into a car and he’d never climbed out again.

  And that car? It had been Parker’s.

  Chills raced through her entire body as she yanked open the doors and slipped onto the patio. Her dress caught in the brambles of a fat potted plant. There was a red sequin lying in the dirt, so familiar it made her heart constrict. Ruby’s dress had been clawed by these same branches, and Ruby should be here, now, escaping with her.

  She tossed a glance behind her back. Immediately, she regretted it, because Parker was opening the patio doors, and Brett was beside him. Ruby was nowhere to be seen. She hadn’t come running after her friend to go on one last adventure. Juniper was alone, like she had been for years.

  She kept to the side of the mansion, avoiding the icy pool. Snow dusted the ground, but she didn’t falter. She didn’t slow. She’d almost passed the patio entirely when she heard Parker’s voice. His shouts were unintelligible, garbled by fear or muffled by distance, but Juniper made out a single word.

  “Rope.”

  It was stretched across the patio, a mere two inches above the ground. Juniper didn’t see it until she was tripping over it, and then she went flying. Her shoulder took the brunt of the fall. She imagined the bruise that would follow, the purplish-black mark that would darken her skin. Then she didn’t imagine anything as a hand grabbed hold of her arm, dragging her toward the pool. Juniper kicked. Juniper screamed. Juniper did everything she could think of to escape, but in the end, she was helpless against her captor.

  That fall had stolen her breath.

  She looked up, to see startling blue eyes in a moon-pale face. Then Juniper Torres was plunged into darkness, and she saw nothing.

  19.

  SACRIFICIAL LAMB

  Brett had always been quick on his feet. Once, when his mother had started a grease fire in the kitchen, he’d put it out with no trouble at all. At the first hint of smoke, four-year-old Brett had dashed to the pantry, pulled out the fire extinguisher, and doused that sucker until the kitchen was white.

  He was wired to act first and rationalize later.

  That was what he’d always thought. But as he watched a tall, ghostly girl drag Juniper to the pool, he was rooted to the spot. His mind screamed at him to move, to act, to intervene, but his body refused to listen.

  He was as useless as a stone.

  Then, with that single thought, Brett scanned the surrounding area for something with the weight of a stone. His eye stuck on the candelabra. It looked heavy, and the breath rushed into him as he plucked the tall black centerpiece from the table. It was heavy. It could knock someone out if he hit them just right. Bursting through the patio doors, he hurled the candelabra into the darkness.

  Metal met porcelain. A chunk of the mask fell away, revealing a mouth. The girl in white looked up. Brett shuddered as that red, blurry mouth curled into a smile, and he squared his shoulders, preparing to dive into danger. But someone brushed past him then, someone with golden hair and a high-backed chair in his hands.

  “I got this,” Parker said.

  Brett stepped aside. His heart was going thud, thud, thud in his chest. Beating against him. Trying to break free. Meanwhile, on the other side of the patio, Juniper had stopped trying to break free. Her body was slumped over the edge of the pool, as Doll Face shoved her head into the water.

  “Hey, bitch!” Parker yelled, and Doll Face froze. Her long white sleeves were trailing across the surface of the water. She looked dead. No, undead, like something that had been buried, only to crawl out of the ground after a year of rotting.

  Brett shook himself. They hadn’t buried a girl a year ago. They’d buried a boy, and thinking about that would only make him sloppy in this moment. He needed to be alert. With Parker taking on the attacker, Brett could focus on pulling Juniper from the pool.

  Or so he thought. But after feeling the sharp sting of the candelabra, Doll Face seemed to have no interest in being knocked out by a chair. She took one look at Parker and bolted toward the front of the house.

  Brett hurried to Juniper’s side. “Let’s get her inside, and I’ll perform CPR,” he said, his voice surprisingly confident as he lifted her into his arms.

  “You know CPR?”

  “From camp, remember?” For one beautiful summer, Brett had trained to be a junior lifeguard, before his father decided that camp was too frivolous for a Carmichael boy. After that, his summers had been devoted to destroying people, rather than saving them.

  But not tonight.

  He carried Juniper into the house. Laying her down on the dining room floor, far from Gavin’s shattered wineglass, he put his training to good use. Push. Push. Push. Breathe. Juniper had never looked so cold. Water dripped from her fingertips, her eyelids, her hair. Brett was shaking as he pushed on her diaphragm, that cold seeping into his skin, chilling him to the core.

  “Come on, come on,” he muttered, pressing his lips to hers. “Come on.”

  “Is she . . . ?” Parker started, but Brett wasn’t listening. He wasn’t stopping. He’d never stop. He was so tired o
f taking from the universe; he wanted to give something back.

  He leaned in, giving Juniper his breath. Giving everything he had. A sound passed her lips, like hinges squeaking, and then she started to cough.

  “You’re okay,” he said, brushing the hair from her face. “I’m going to take you to the living room. You’ll feel better on the couch.” That was a lie. She wouldn’t feel better until they got her to the hospital. But with a wardrobe blocking one exit, and that ghostly girl stalking the other, their best bet was to make Juniper as comfortable as possible. Gavin, too. Ruby, if anything had happened to her in their absence. It seemed strange that she hadn’t made a run for it with Juniper. As they entered the hallway, Brett turned to Parker, saying, “Why don’t you run ahead? Make sure the others are all right.”

  Parker nodded, jogging down the hall. When he reached the living room doors, he flung them open, peering inside. But he didn’t go any farther. Instead he spun around, his face paler than Brett had ever seen it, and murmured, “She’s gone.”

  “Who’s gone?”

  But of course, the answer was obvious. Only one person could’ve made Parker that pale. Only one person could’ve sent him diving into danger, moments after Juniper went diving into the pool.

  “Ruby hasn’t been taken,” Brett said, leading Parker into the room. “I saw Doll Face before we went upstairs, remember? She was standing on the patio, waiting for Juniper with that rope. Ruby probably went looking for her phone.”

  Juniper’s lips parted, and she pushed out the word, “Study.”

  “The study?” Brett repeated, nudging the doors closed. Blocking out the hallway, and the danger. “That’s where Ruby went?”

  Juniper opened her mouth again, but the word that escaped sounded wrong. It didn’t sound like her at all. When she said, “Gone,” it sounded like someone had crawled into her body and taken possession of her. The voice was breathy, almost ethereal.