The Wrong Twin He Buried

" was a p

room was already full of clothes in my size. Not Celeste's size - _my_ size. Dresses I'd liked on Instagram and never bough

of it, still in the wedding

ic. Thu

ne to it wit

ope

aine_ stamped on the cover in gold. Celeste's. I'd seen her write in it when we

e was dated t

ary 1

e sculpture like he wanted to stab it. He doesn't look like his photos. He's thinner. Meaner. He called me

mach d

pped

uary

decisions. He thinks I'm engaged to his brother. I haven't told him. I can'

ch 1

ent. Didn't yell. Just said, "You have two choices. End it, or

il 1

old Dad it was a tragedy. He didn't even come to the funeral. He

d the di

. He knew three years ago. And he'd just told me, _"

te never

as he ta

rd creaked

tood in the doorway, tie loosened, jacket off. H

," he said. N

was

ut the door. The lock clicked. "No. You

knew I was

ed. "Damian,

n why you've been forging her signature since you were sixteen? Explain why you took the fal

a bullet. He'd

ong ha

red wine on your dress and didn't flinch. Celeste would ha

down. "I propos

me. "If you knew she loved

foot away. I could see the scar through his eyebrow now. It wasn't like mine. M

right under the scar. Same spo

he girl who memorized her coffee order. The gi

ath st

ed you,

slipped fr

e floor. Opened it to the las

In handwriting I

rs ready. If Celeste runs, Elise wil

eleste ran. Before

lanned

he penthouse

led from the living room. "M

even turn. "

. Same cold gray eyes. But his hair was longer. His sui

Kaine

raight at me

se. I've heard s