I made for the stairs, forgetting that Maddy had never been in this house. She’d picked me up here a few times. She would sit at the curb and honk her horn until I came out, but she’d never been closer than that. She wouldn’t know which room was Josh’s, never mind jog up the stairs like she owned the place. “Uh … which room is his?”

“Last one on the right. You sure you don’t want me to go get him?”

I shook my head and took the first few steps two at a time. “Maddy?” Mrs. Williams’s voice halted me, and I turned, my eyes dancing across the front door before settling on her. There was still time to leave, still time to walk out that door and keep pretending.

“I’m sorry about your sister,” she finally said.

“Me too,” was what I came out with—a weak, pathetic me too.

The upstairs hall was empty, the lights off except the one flowing out from underneath Josh’s door. I knew where the light switches were, knew that if I turned to my left there would be three switches, the middle one a dimmer. I didn’t bother to flick one on; I didn’t need it. This was my second home. I could navigate my way up the stairs to his room with my eyes closed.

I walked the hall on instinct alone, my feet knowing exactly how many steps to take, my hand automatically knowing which door to tap on.

“It’s open,” he called.

I slowly turned the brass knob. Part of me knew I would regret this—admitting to a lie I had every intention of continuing to live. The other part of me, the part guiding my hand, knew I owed Josh an explanation.

I opened the door enough to peek in, still wavering between staying and leaving. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his History notes sprawled out in front of him.

I shook my head in self-disgust. I’d spent countless nights here on that floor, in that exact same position, poring over Physics notes or copying Latin translations. This was the same Josh I had always known, the same one I went to in the past with stupid problems. Why did I want to hide from him now?

He looked up from his homework, his expression guarded. “Hey, Ella.”

I’d heard him utter my name a thousand times before. Heard him yell it at me last month when we were fighting over which indie film to feature in the anime club’s October newsletter, and whisper it to me the next day in school when he was trying to get my attention during class so he could apologize. But never before had it sounded so flat … so matter-of-fact.

“What have I done?” With those whispered words I lost it, the tears I’d been fighting finally fell, poured from my eyes as my entire body shook violently with sobs. Josh’s reaction was instantaneous. He got up and closed the door before dragging me close and pulling me into his arms. I didn’t fight him as he guided my head to his chest. I no longer had the strength or the desire to lie to the one person who’d ever truly known me.

The steady, rhythmic beat of his heart thrummed beneath my cheek as his palm moved soothingly up and down my back. His cheek warmed the top of my head and the constant lull of his voice was peaceful, perfect. For the first time since the accident, I felt safe and warm, and I wanted to stay here, locked in his arms, forever.

It seemed like hours before my sobs quieted to a whimper. His shirt was soaked from my tears, his hands shaking on my back. I didn’t pull away to see if he was crying. I didn’t want to know.

“You’re soaking wet,” he said as he brushed at his now-damp shirt.

“What?” Surprise and confusion swirled inside me. I had just admitted to pretending to be dead and taking over my sister’s life, and the only thing he thought to comment on was my wet clothes?

I stared down at my shoes. They were squishy, the leather strap leaving a smudge across the top of my feet. “I walked here. It was still drizzling when I left the cemetery, but it has stopped now.”

“Here,” Josh said. He stripped off his sweatshirt and gave it to me. “None of my jeans will fit you, but I’ve got a pair of sweatpants you can borrow.”

I took the sweatshirt, and he dug through his dresser for a clean pair of pants. He handed them to me and looked at the floor until I was completely changed.

On top of my pile of wet clothes, I laid the earrings and the locket I’d found in Maddy’s jewelry box, plus the five thousand silver bangles I’d put on this morning.

“You look like you now,” he said, and I smiled. For the first time in weeks, I actually felt like me.

“How’d you figure it out?” I asked.

“Figure what out?”

“How did you figure out it was me … that I was Ella and not Maddy? I mean, Alex hasn’t figured it out. Not even my parents have questioned it.”

“Yeah, well, that’s Alex. Your parents…” Josh paused and shrugged as if he couldn’t explain that one. “They’re upset, probably grieving too much to look that closely.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, quite sure that wasn’t the case. They had the daughter they wanted, or at least that’s what I was telling myself. “But how did you figure it out?”

“You told me.”

“What? No I didn’t.” In fact, I had gone out of my way to make sure I hadn’t let anything slip in front of him. With the exception of that small slip of my voice in the stairwell today, I’d stayed completely in part.

“You have that drawing I left in the cemetery?”

“Yeah.” I pulled it out of my pocket and handed it to him.

He unfolded it much the way I had, but using his leg to smooth it out. “This told me,” he said, waving it in my direction.

“I don’t get it. I’ve drawn hundreds of those. What’s so special about this one?”

“Exactly,” he said. “I … we have AP English in the same room as Maddy. One period later, after she has American Lit. I found it crumpled up by the desk you were sitting in. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but you’ve been drawing that same tree since the day I met you. You do it whenever you zone out.”

He was right. That gnarly old willow tree sat in my front yard. It had been beaten down a few times by winter storms and the occasional hurricane. That’s why I always drew it—it either cracked a limb or lost a branch every week. It was always changing, a constant, inanimate object that gave me something new to capture each day.

“You found this on the floor?” I remembered finishing my test early, rereading my answers, and still having a good ten minutes left to kill. I must have drawn it while I was waiting for the bell to ring, mindlessly putting pencil to paper.

“Umm hmm, and I’d like it back if you don’t mind.”

“Why?” I asked, handing it to him.

“Because right now, or at least until you change your mind about this game you’re playing, it’s the only thing I have left of you.”

27

I sat on his bed watching, waiting for him to say something. I thought about leaving. The anger I had seen less than thirty minutes ago was not something I wanted to deal with. But I’d wait him out, like he’d done for me.

“What do you remember about that night?” he finally asked.

“You don’t understand, Josh.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“It didn’t make any sense,” I said, struggling to explain. “When I first woke up, I had no clue who I was … where I was. I didn’t even know I had a sister. It was Alex who told me my name and what had happened.”

Josh got up from his desk chair, hesitating for a minute before he sat down next to me on the bed. I could feel his breath on my cheek, the warmth of his hand as he nudged me to look at him. “And when you figured it out, when you finally got your memory back, why didn’t you ask to see me? If you’d asked for me, had so much as said my name, they would’ve called me. Alex would’ve gotten me that first day, and I would’ve come, talked you out of this. Why didn’t you ask for me?”

I stayed silent, my attention focused on a small rip in his comforter. I counted the threads, tried to gauge how many stitches it would take to repair it. Fifteen, I figured. Twenty, tops.