The Shadow Sister by Lily Meade

Author:Lily Meade
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks

FOURTEEN

Andrew’s gift is burning a hole in my pocket.

I’m not even wearing my jacket anymore—it’s hanging on my chair—but I can still feel the photo paper between the pads of my fingers. I’ve been trying to distract myself, mindlessly watching old tour clips of Ivy James on my laptop, but I can’t stop peeking at it. Checking on it like the photo strip is going to climb out of my jacket and walk to Sutton’s room all by itself.

She has nothing of him in her room. I keep thinking about how she lingered on that picture of the two of them on my phone the other day. The ghost of her, of who they used to be to each other back when the worst thing that had ever happened to her was being my sister.

If she’s truly faking, she probably misses him a lot. But if she’s faking, why should I ease her suffering? If she’s putting us through this hell on purpose, the last thing I want is to make it easier on her.

No one has tried to make any of this easier for me.

But if she isn’t faking…

If what happened to her was so horrible, her mind erased everything that came before…

I don’t even know where to start processing that. Yet she remembered the bracelet. There was no hiding that.

I’m not going to let Andrew become my problem. I slide my computer off my lap and hop off my bed before grabbing the ragged print from my jacket. If this memento gets anyone in trouble, it won’t be me. Maybe being caught with it and yelled at by our parents will trigger some memory in Sutton, and all our problems will be solved.

As I approach her door, she’s humming her song again, sitting in front of Juliet’s tank, which seems to be her new hobby. She’s wearing cloud-patterned pajamas and Mom’s best robe, but her hair is still wet and dripping down her back.

“Why isn’t Mom helping you with your hair?” I ask her. I’m a little shocked she’d leave Sutton alone with soaking hair. With all this babying, I half expected Mom to be pressed against Sutton’s back, sectioning out her locks like she did when we were kids. Sutton and I used to trade off the torture of wash day, sitting both smug and sympathetic in front of the other while Mom re-created the protective styles Ma Remy taught her.

Sutton liked to make a game out of handing Mom hair bands and other decorative elements like ribbons and beads. Before she started middle school and decided she was old enough to do her own hair alone, Sutton would create secret codes with her choices that I would spend the next week trying to decipher.

“I don’t like it when she touches me,” Sutton says, still staring at the fish tank but dipping her chin toward the rug. If I didn’t know better, I’d call it shame.

“You can’t sleep on wet hair.” She must know this, amnesia aside.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.