Page 150 of Someone Like Me
“Yes. He broke in and took things. From me.” Her nostrils flare as she practically yells in my face. I lean away.
“Tori, don’t be ridiculous. Drew never stole from us.”
Her mouth pulls to the side in a sneer. “Not us.Me.”
I get to my feet. I’ve had enough. Staying any longer is just going to drive an irreparable rift between us. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Tori, but I’m not interested in—”
Slowly, Tori sits again and gives me that chilling, all-knowing smile. “Oh, I’m sure the police will be interested.”
Time stops, and it takes my breath and blood with it.
And the moment I understand what she’s done — what she’s planning to do — breath and blood resume at racing speed.
“W-what have you done?”
She gives me that awful, phony smile of pity. “Oh, dear Evie. It’s not what I’ve done. It’s what your boyfriend has done,” she says softly, her lips vanishing as pretend regret draws down her mouth. “He’s committed burglary again. While on parole. I don’t think they’ll go easy on him.”
I shake my head, fear leaving me mute. After a long moment, I force the words out in a rasp. “You can’t do this.”
She shakes her head. “Believe me, I don’t want to.” But anyone looking at her could see that she wants this. She wants to hurt me anyway she can. And hurting Drew is the surest way.
“Tori, y-you’re talking about making a false accusation against an innocent man.” My voice shakes, and I’m sure she can hear the fear in it. But she only gives me a doubtful look.
“Oh, no. Not innocent.” Tori shakes her head. “I’m sure the police will find plenty of evidence, both here and on Mr. Moroux’s property, for a conviction.”
Horror washes over me. Threatens to drown me. Drew’s apartment. Ever since Mrs. Vivian has been in the hospital, he’s left it unlocked for me, so I could wait for him or join him in the middle of the night.
Oh God.
“What did you do, Tori? What did you plant there?” Her color is high. Her eyes bright. She’s loving this. Why does she want to hurt us this way? “Tori, why would you do this?”
She reaches forward and clamps her hand around my wrist, eyes locking with mine. “Evie, I’m the victim here. Something has been taken from me, and I can’t let that go unanswered.”
Her grip on my wrist is tight, almost painful. “Tori,” My voice breaks on her name. “Drew has taken nothing from you.”
She stares at me with unblinking focus, and her eyes say it all. Drew hasn’t taken anything from her. I have. And this is my punishment.
“Don’t do this to him,” I beg, shaking my head. “Whatever reasons you have to hate me, don’t hurt Drew.”
“Hate you?” The reptilian smile returns, and her grip becomes vice-like. “How could I hate my perfect baby sister who’s always had her way? How could I hate someone who I’ve made so many sacrifices for?”
My eyes well with tears because the person in front of me can’t be my sister. We’ve never been close. It’s been difficult between us for years. But I’ve loved her. I’ve loved Tori, and it’s clear to me now that she’s only hated me in return.
“Please, Tori. If you do this, Drew will go back to jail.” I shake my head. “He’s lost so much already. You can’t.”
Her mouth pulls to the side as though she’s considering, but it’s all bullshit. “Hmmm. Yeah, he would go back to prison. I mean, there’s probably a lot of evidence the police would find against him.” She nods as she says this as though it’s a shame. “I know from my one forensic chemistry class that things like clothing fibers, hair, even shoe prints can really be damning in a case like this.”
“My God, Tori!” I yank free from her grip. The notion seems impossible, but looking at her, I don’t doubt it for a second. She’s planted all of this. She’s been in Drew’s apartment, taken whatever she wanted, left something of hers behind, and then hidden “evidence” here. And where that would be — which window sill or door, which room or floor I have no idea. The back of the house is all windows. On the bottom floor alone, there must be twenty at least.
I’ll clean them all. Clean the whole fucking house.
She narrows her eyes at me, and I know she’s followed my thoughts. “Of course, I couldn’t really be surewhenthis happened,” she says with meaning. “Or when it might happen again.”
I understand what she means. She has more — more hair, more clothing fibers — she could hide later. Anger chars its way up my throat. “I wouldn’t have thought you were capable of this,” I hiss.
She keeps her tone deceptively light. “Oh, I’m capable of a lot of things,” she sing songs. “Even letting your boyfriend get away with this heinous crime… under the right circumstances.”
I cough a mirthless laugh. This can’t be blackmail. She knows I don’t have much. But the thought of handing over everything I own just to make her go away is suddenly very tempting. I can’t let her ruin him. I can’t let him go through that again.
