“I followed you from the party,” he said, studying her as if he wasn't sure what he was seeing.
She sighed. “When you bashed your head on the coffee table because I was chasing you—”
“—you told Mom it was the dog,” he said grimly.
“Satisfied?” she asked with a smirk.
“What is… What are you doing?” He frowned.
She brushed herself off again. “Like it? It's a new look.”
I groaned. “Were you even listening to anything I said?” I demanded.
She scowled at me and then returned her attention to her brother. “Well?”
“Who is she?” he asked finally, nodding at her body.
She jerked back, obviously not expecting that question. “What?”
“I mean, who is it?” he asked, sounding exhausted, like he'd been having this conversation, or some type of it, for years.
“It's… it's me.” She gave a nervous laugh. “We covered that already, remember?”
He didn't say anything.
“Oh, come on, Eddie, don't be such a pain. What's the big deal? This is good for all of us,” she said pleadingly. “I can have the life I missed out on, and you don't have to blame yourself anymore. I'm making things better, for both of us.”
So, clearly, nothing I'd said had stuck with her.
“So this is your solution, to take what you want, just like always?” His voice was deceptively calm, but even I could hear the thread of anger running beneath the surface.
Apparently, so could Erin. “I don't have to listen to this.” She turned away, pointing her nose up in indignation, but she stumbled and fell again when she tried to stalk off.
“I am sorry,” Ed said in a clear, calm, angry tone.
She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes wide with panic.
“I should have gone with you,” he said, “if only to keep you from hurting yourself.”
“What are you doing? Stop it. We don't talk about this.” She scrambled to her feet. “We never talk about this!” She sounded outraged and maybe a little afraid.
“But the truth is, I was tired of always doing what you said, and I was starting to think for myself. And you knew it.” He advanced on her, drawing even with me. “You were losing control over me, and you wanted to punish me for it.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It was an accident!” Despite the anger in her voice, Erin was crying. I could hear her sniffling. I sympathized. I didn't know what Erin was like, but Lily was a crier, for sure. In that body, there was no way around it. Angry, happy, sad, surprised, Lily would sob through it all.
“It wasn't. Want to know how I know?” Ed demanded. “You're afraid of heights,” he continued without waiting for an answer. “I could never figure out why you were on that roof in the first place. The only reason you would have gone up there was to prove something. I thought it was to those other people, the frat guys and whoever, but they wouldn't have known what it meant for you to do that, would they? But I did.”
“It was an accident,” she repeated. “I slipped and—”
“No.” Ed shook his head vehemently. “This is just like all those other times: Cub Scouts, the science fair, prom. I wasn't playing along, so you did whatever you thought it would take. A few bumps and bruises from a tumble off a roof, and you knew I'd make damned sure you didn't go to another party alone, even if it meant sitting in a corner all night while you ran around talking to people.”
“You didn't mean to kill yourself,” Ed continued, “but—”
“Of course not!” she shouted, her fists clenched at her sides. “It's your fault that I'm like this.” She gestured down at herself, and I had to assume she meant being dead rather than being in Lily's body. The latter was all on her. “If you'd come with me, the way I'd asked you, the way you were supposed to, then none of this would have happened. But oh, no, Edmund always has to be difficult. Never mind what I'm trying to do for us.”
“I didn't want to be somebody new, talking about keg stands and frat parties. I liked who we were,” he said.
“We were losers!” she snapped. “I was trying to make us better, but you're so selfish—”
“As selfish as hurting yourself to get other people to do what you want?” he demanded.
She threw her hands up in frustration. “Like I had a choice!”
“There is always a choice!” he shouted back at her. Then he stopped, visibly making an effort to calm himself. “You made yours, and I'm making mine. You have owned me for the last five years. You let me torture myself with guilt for something
Erin seemed to sense the shift, too. She looked truly scared for the first time, and stepped toward her twin, her hands out in a placating gesture. “Eddie, wait, listen. It wasn't like that.”
