Aria’s eyes watered from the noxious odor that had permeated the room. All of a sudden, a new scent emerged. Aria’s head shot up, her nostrils twitching. Emily, Hanna, and Spencer widened their eyes. They all realized what it was at the same time. That was when Aria saw white smoke billowing through the vents.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, pointing. “Something’s on fire.”
Aria rushed to the door and pulled on the knob. She turned around fast, her face stricken. There was no need to say anything to the others—they already knew. The door was locked. They were trapped.
30
LIFE ENDS WITH A BANG, NOT A WHIMPER
The room began to fill with black, curling smoke. The temperature was slowly but steadily rising. Emily yanked at the window sash, but it didn’t budge. She thought about breaking the glass, but the bedroom was in the back of the house, which was set on a steep downward slope. The jump would break their legs, if not worse.
On the other side of the room, Spencer, Aria, and Hanna were ramming their shoulders against the door, trying to break it down. When it didn’t give, they collapsed in a heap on the bed, panting.
“We’re going to die,” Hanna whispered. “Ali’s trying to kill us.”
“No she’s—” Emily trailed off. She was about to say that Ali wasn’t—Ali couldn’t. Billy had written that note, posing as Ali. And if he hadn’t, then Melissa had. Melissa had snickered at them moments ago, laughing at everything they’d deduced. Melissa had killed Ali’s sister. Melissa had set this fire. Or if not Melissa—or Billy—then someone else.
Just not Ali. Never Ali.
The air was getting so thick with smoke it was becoming hard to see. Hanna leaned over and started to cough, and Aria let out a woozy moan. Spencer ripped the top sheet from the bed and shoved it under the crack in the door to prevent more smoke from getting in, like they’d been taught in seventh-grade fire safety class. “We probably only have a few more minutes in here until the fire reaches the door,” she told the others. “We have to figure out something fast.”
Emily ran to the corner of the room, bumping against the closet door. Suddenly, she heard a small, thin cry. She froze. Everyone turned, hearing it, too. Ali? Emily thought.
But the cries were coming from somewhere very close. Then there were pounding sounds. Another cry. A muffled scream. Emily faced the closet. “Someone’s in there!”
Spencer shot forward and turned the knob. The smell wafted out in putrid, powerful waves. Emily gagged, covering her mouth with the bottom of her shirt.
“Oh my God,” Spencer shouted. Then Emily looked down and screamed louder than she’d ever screamed before. A rotted corpse was splayed out in the bottom of the almost-empty closet. The legs were bent halfway up the wall at a disfiguring angle, and the head lolled off to the left, resting on top of an Adidas shoe box. The skin was a sallow yellow, and there was a horrible waxy substance on what was left of the cheeks. The skin and muscles around the mouth had rotted away into a hollow pit. The beautiful golden hair looked like a wig, and the forehead swarmed with maggots.
It was Ian Thomas.
Emily kept screaming and shut her eyes, but the image seemed branded on the back of her eyelids. Then, something shot forward and touched her foot. She shot back and tried to slam the door. “Stop!” Spencer screamed. “Emily, wait!”
Emily froze, whimpering. Spencer pushed around her and pulled another body from the closet, someone who’d almost been crushed by Ian’s body. Emily gasped. It was a girl, her mouth gagged. Melissa. Her blue eyes stared at them imploringly.
Everyone helped to untie the thick ropes around her wrists and ankles and pull the duct tape from her mouth. Melissa immediately doubled over and began to cough. Tears streamed down her face. She collapsed into Spencer, her sobs tortured and terrified. “Are you okay?” Spencer cried.
“She kidnapped me and threw me in the trunk of the car,” Melissa coughed. “I woke up a couple times, but she kept drugging me to knock me out. And when I woke up again, I was in…” She trailed off, her eyes sliding to the half-opened closet. Her face contorted with pain.
Then, Melissa sniffed the air. The smoke was pouring into the room so fast, a fine gray haze had begun to swirl. Melissa began to shake. “We’re all going to die.”
Everyone rushed to the center of the room and held one another. Emily shivered uncontrollably. She could feel someone’s heart beating against hers. “It’ll be okay,” Spencer repeated over and over in Melissa’s ear. “We need to find a way out of here.”
“There is no way!” Melissa’s eyes were full of tears. “Don’t you see?”
“Wait a minute.” Aria leaped to her feet. She looked around the room quizzically, her forehead furrowed. “I think this is the room with the passage that leads to the kitchen.”
“What are you talking about?” Hanna asked.
“Don’t you remember?” Aria cried. “We hid in here to scare Jason.”
Aria marched to the dresser and shoved it out of the way. To Emily’s astonishment, there was the small door, about the height of a golden retriever. Aria pulled the latch and kicked it open, revealing a dark tunnel. Melissa gasped.
“Come on,” Spencer urged, sinking to her hands and knees and squeezing through the tiny door. She dragged her sister through after her. Aria went next, then Hanna. Emily’s stomach jumped. The tunnel smelled like Ian’s rotting body.
“Emily!” Spencer’s echoing voice sounded very far away. “Hurry!”
Emily took a deep breath, folded her shoulders, and crawled inside. The tunnel was about ten feet long and let out in a small, closet-size room that looked as though it had been closed up for years. There were piles of dust and tons of dead bugs in the corners and a big water stain on the ceiling. Aria tried the knob to the far door that led to the rickety wooden staircase, but it didn’t budge. “It’s jammed,” she whispered.
“It can’t be,” Spencer insisted. She threw her shoulder against it in desperation. Emily, Aria, and Hanna joined in. Finally, the wood splintered, then gave way. Emily let out a relieved sound that was a mix between a sigh and a wail.
They scampered down the stairs and opened a third door. The heat rushed at them, stinging their eyes and skin. The room was filled with even thicker plumes of smoke. Emily fumbled around the kitchen island, trying to get her bearings. She staggered in the direction of the front door. A shadow moved to her left, in and out of the noxious fog. Someone was hammering the windows shut so there was no chance of getting out.
Emily froze when she saw the blond hair, the heart-shaped face, the kissable lips. Ali.
Ali wheeled around and stared at Emily as if she’d seen a ghost. The hammer fell clumsily to the floor. Her eyes were slate gray and cold, her mouth misshaped into a half smirk. A sob rose in Emily’s chest. All of a sudden, she knew that this girl had written that note…and that everything in it was true. Her heart broke into a million pieces.
Ali turned and raced for the door just as Emily shot forward, grabbing Ali by the arm and spinning her around. Ali’s mouth made a startled O. Emily held her roughly by the shoulders, her grip strong.
“How could you do this?” Emily demanded.
Ali tried to wrench free. Her eyes seethed with loathing. “I already told you,” she rasped. “You bitches ruined my life.” It didn’t even sound like her voice.
“But…I loved you,” Emily squeaked, her eyes filling with tears.
Ali let out a perverse giggle. “You are such a loser, Emily.”
It felt like she’d driven a long skewer straight through Emily’s heart. She squeezed Ali’s shoulders hard, wanting her to know how much it hurt. How can you say that? she was about to scream. How can you hate us so much?
But then a giant boom filled the air, momentarily blinding her. There was a bright white light and a rush of heat. Emily covered her head and eyes as the force of the explosion lifted her off the ground. She felt a snap, then a crash. She landed hard on her shoulder, her teeth clanging together.
The world was white for a moment. Calm. Empty. When Emily opened her eyes again, the sound and heat and pain rushed back in. She was lying near the front door, a pool of blood by her mouth. Desperate, she fumbled for the doorknob. It burned to the touch, but it turned. She crawled to the porch and then to the lawn, sprawling on the cold, wet grass.
When Emily opened her eyes again, someone was coughing next to her. Spencer and her sister were collapsed on the grass nearby. Aria was by the big chestnut tree, crumpled on her side. Hanna was near the driveway, slowly pushing herself to a sitting position.
Emily gazed back at the big house. Smoke billowed from every crack. Flames leaped from the roof. A shadow passed in front of the living room window. And then there was a thunderous cracking sound, and the whole house exploded.
Emily shrieked, covered her eyes, and curled into a ball. Just count to a hundred, she told herself. Just pretend you’re swimming laps. Just keep your eyes shut until this is over. The air felt hot and dirty, and the sound was louder than a thousand airplanes taking off. A couple of sparks rained down onto Emily’s shoulders, hot snaps against her skin.
The explosions continued for a few long seconds more. When they subsided, Emily parted her fingers and peered out from beneath her hands. The house was nothing but a giant mountain of fire.
“Ali,” she whispered, but the word was immediately swallowed up as the chimney crashed to the ground. Ali was still inside.
31
THE REMAINING PIECES
Spencer lay coughing on the lawn a safe distance away from the house, Melissa out cold next to her. The structure burned steadily, an inferno of yellow and orange. Every so often, a mini explosion spit sparks high into the sky. The upstairs level, where they’d recently been imprisoned, was nothing but a brittle, blazing carcass.
The other girls crawled over to them. “Is everyone okay?” Spencer shouted. Emily nodded. Hanna coughed out a yes. Aria had her face in her hands, but weakly said she was fine. A sharp wind whipped around their faces. It was heavy with the odor of charred wood and dead bodies.
“I can’t get that letter out of my head,” Emily said in a monotone, shivering in her thin sweater. “Ali was so angry at her sister for switching places and sending her away she killed her.”
“Yep,” Spencer said, shifting her weight on the bumpy ground.
“Ian had nothing to do with it. Billy didn’t, either. Ali just needed to pin it on someone. And then she was going to kill us.” It was like Emily needed to say all of this out loud to convince herself that it had really happened.
“It was Courtney who talked to us when we tried to steal her Time Capsule flag. It was the only way to make her parents think she was the sane twin…” Aria said in equal disbelief, wiping soot from her face. “And Courtney picked us at the charity drive because she had to—she couldn’t be friends with Naomi and Riley anymore. She didn’t know them—she only knew us.”