Layla

I’ve certainly never told Willow that Sable ran a fan club.

How does Willow know anything at all about Sable? That’s not something she should know.

I grab her wrist and I sit up, rolling her onto her back. I crawl out of the bed and stand next to it, staring down at her.

Her eyes are wide with confusion at my sudden movement.

I squeeze my jaw, silently trying to piece together a puzzle that has seemed so complicated, but really it’s simple. It’s a puzzle that only consists of three pieces.

Me.

Layla.

Sable.

Is that why Willow is here? Because she’s Sable, in need of closure? If that’s the case, why would she go by a different name?

“Why do you call yourself Willow?” I ask her.

My reaction is making her nervous. She rubs her hands up her arms. “You asked what my name was. I don’t have one, so I just . . . made it up.”

My words feel stuck in my throat. “You . . . made it up?”

“Yes. I already told you I don’t have any memories. How would I know what my name was? I’ve never even spoken to anyone before you, so no one has ever asked me my name.”

My mind begins to whirl in every possible direction. Why have I not considered this possibility? Sable is dead. I’m responsible for her death.

That’s why she’s here.

“Leeds?” Willow tosses the blanket aside as she watches me pace the room. “What’s wrong?”

I stop walking, and then turn around and face her. I feel like the bottom has dropped out from under me and I’m about to free-fall straight through the house. “How did you know Sable had a fan club?”

Her eyes fill with something else now . . . something Willow’s expression is never full of. Guilt.

For the first time since I arrived in this house, I’m finally having the reaction I should have had all along. Fear.

“Get out of Layla.”

“Leeds . . .”

“Get. Out. Of. Layla!”

Willow scrambles to her feet. “Leeds, wait. You don’t understand. It’s confusing inside her head. Nothing makes sense. That’s not my memory—it’s one of Layla’s.” She’s in front of me now, pleading.

I feel like a fucking fool. “I never told Layla that. She wouldn’t have that memory. Only Sable would know that.”

Willow’s hands go up to the sides of her head like she can’t come up with an excuse quick enough.

Willow is Sable, and I should have recognized that immediately. But I was too caught up in the idea of it all. Too enamored that something this huge was happening, and I was a part of it. I felt like I was part of something bigger than me or Layla, but all I’ve been a part of is destroying us even more than we’ve already been destroyed.

I want Willow out of Layla, and I don’t even care if she does it while Layla isn’t in the bed. I don’t care if Layla is terrified when she opens her eyes and doesn’t remember standing up. I plan on leaving with Layla tonight anyway. I need to get her as far away from Willow as possible.

I push past Willow and grab the suitcase Layla started packing earlier. I throw it on the bed, then grab our other suitcase. Willow doesn’t say a word while I pack. Her eyes just follow me around the room as I gather our things.

I move to the bathroom and pack everything up; then I walk to the top of the staircase. I shove one of the suitcases forward and watch it topple down the stairs, and then I rush down the steps with the other one.

Willow is behind me, still inside of Layla.

I don’t know why it took me so long to realize this. Willow is here for a reason. That reason is because she’s the one who shot us. That reason has been staring me in the fucking face since I walked into this house. A house that went up for sale several months ago. A house that changed ownership not long before that.

Willow said she can’t remember how long she’s been in this house, but I remember her saying it wasn’t long before ownership changed. Which would mean . . . the timing coincides. Willow showed up here around the time I shot Sable.

I get to the kitchen and I grab my car keys and then turn to see Willow standing in the doorway. “We’re leaving. I need you to get out of her.”

She shakes her head, looking at me with imploring eyes. “Even if I was Sable in a past life, I’m not her now. I could never do what she did to you. What she did to Layla.”

I’m squeezing my keys in my fist, full of even more fear now. Every time I’ve asked Willow to leave Layla before, she’s done it.