“I can’t help it,” she replies.
“Well, cool it, or I’ll think you out of existence,” I threaten.
Her smile stretches over my mouth. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
“You know you only exist because of me, right?”
“You can trust them, Sarah,” she says, seeing past my confident bravado. Hiding anything from her is fucking impossible when she has a front-row seat to every single one of my emotions. “We want the same things. They’ll stop Dad, so he can’t hurt anyone else.”
“But they’re bad people,” I say. “Don’t you remember what they did to you?”
“Who wouldn’t be damaged after being stuck in Sunnycrest for most of their lives?”
“Save it for someone who cares, Mother Teresa,” I say.
“But the videos…”
Although I didn’t see them myself, I caught a glimpse of Erin’s memories. I clench my jaw to shut the images out. I’m already nauseous at the thought of what’s coming next, and I need a clear head.
Erin senses my discomfort and a comforting feeling sweeps through me, like I’m getting a hug from the inside.
“We’re starting afresh when we get out of here,” I say, putting my focus firmly on the future again. “We’ll start over, away from them. That’s our deal.”
“You can’t lie to me, Sarah,” she says. “They hurt you, but I know your feelings for them are strong.”
“Hurt?” I snort. “The only thing hurting me is a headache because of your constant chatting!”
She sighs and falls into a huffy silence. She doesn’t know my own feelings better than I do.
Before I get into another argument with my twin, my cell door flies open suddenly.
This is it.
An orderly with a screwed-up face and slapped-ass expressions steps inside.
“Come with me, Miss Acacia,” he barks.
He’s flanked by two other orderlies, who look like small gorillas and have sullen scowls.
“Where are we going?” I ask, playing ignorant. They need to think I don’t know what’s happening. “Am I going home?”
“Get her arms,” one commands.
The other two grab me and roughly tug me to my feet.
“Hey!” I yell. “Keep your hands to yourself!”
Careful, Erin warns in my head,you’re supposed to be me, remember? I’d follow without a fuss.
The orderlies don’t pay any attention to my comments, though. They have about three brain cells between them, so I doubt they’d notice any changes to my temperament.
“Get the mask,” one gorilla says.
While my arms are held, they put a thick, black band of material over my eyes, pinning them closed.
“What’re you doing?” I ask as darkness descends. “I need to see! What if I fall?”
The other gorilla loosens his grip.
