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“No, Kaley, there is nothing cool about any of the things you’ve been posting online on your secret accounts lately.”

We square off with our eyes and Zoe looks away first.

Thank God.

I don’t want to talk about my social media accounts, I don’t want to talk about my dad, and I definitely don’t want to have another Kaley, you should tell Bobby about this discussion. Nope, not doing it. Bobby would blow if he saw any of it.

“So what do you want to do this weekend?” I ask, abruptly changing the subject.

She crinkles her nose. “Anything. I’m bored out of my skull. My folks took off for Morea this morning and the house is so quiet I can’t stand it.”

“Your folks are gone? There is no one home.”

Zoe nods. “For a month.”

“Damn it, Zoe. We could have gone to Palm Springs. Ian and Yotti wouldn’t even have known if we’d taken off.”

Her pretty face grows anxious and serious. “Nope. Not lying to them. This time I’m staying home like they told me to. I’ve been sitting here all day thinking about all the things I haven’t been busted for yet and how pissed off they’re going to be if they ever discover them. Ian totally flipped out when he found out—and thank you, Kaley, for posting it on your Facebook—that I went to Mexico with Jake without tell them. I’ve never seen Ian so angry. But my dad really scared me with all that ‘this is what could happen to you’ shit. I’m going to lay low for a while, Kaley, and I think maybe you should, too.”

I blink at her.

Shit.

We’re finally over eighteen.

Now is when she decides we should do what we’re told to?

*  *  *

“Don’t post it, Kaley. Enough already. She’s not going to back down. Let it go.”

I ignore Zoe and hit post anyway.

“You want me to stop the cyberwar, give me Natasha’s phone number or tell me where she lives so I can have it out with her face-to-face. This shit needs to stop. Now, Zoe. I don’t want her bullying you anymore and the photo she’s spreading of Jake with another girl is bullshit. Fake. Photoshopped or something. He wouldn’t do that to you.”

Zoe gives me an intense look. “I know that. I got over it after I called Jake when she texted me the first one on Friday. Yep, I got butt-hurt when I saw it. Yep, I went off on my boyfriend. But it ended three days ago for me. I don’t know why you keep hitting her back online every time she hits me.”

“Because she’s a bitch and she deserves it and I’m not going to put up with her treating you this way.”

Zoe’s eyes fly wide. “But I don’t care. And I just want the fighting to stop. It’s gotten out of hand. It’s going to be ten times worse now when I go back to school. Can’t you see that, Kaley?”

I slap closed my laptop and flop back on the bed. “Fine. I’ll stop.”

She nods in relief. “Good. It needs to stop. It’s too much for me. I don’t want to fight with anyone.”

I pout. “I’m sorry. But you’re my best friend. I love you. And I can’t stand when those girls hurt you.”

She smiles. “Boy, when you say you’re going to have someone’s back you mean it.”

She makes a silly face and I laugh.

Then I groan.

“Maybe I did take it too far. Bobby is going to be so pissed if he sees any of it. Definitely not among my most stellar moments.”

“Some of it was kind of funny,” Zoe offers carefully.

I shake my head. “No. You’re right. I took it too far.”

Ding.

Oh fuck, that was fast. Fucking Natasha. Zoe’s right. She’s never backing down.

Zoe grabs her phone off the bed and holds it away from me. “Don’t look at it. It’s my text. I don’t want to see it. We’ve decided it stops.”

She stares at me, unblinking, and I nod. “Fine. It stops. Can we go out and grab some breakfast now? I’m starving.”

“Let me take a fast shower then we’re out of here.”

I watch her disappear into her bathroom. I lie back and shoot off a text to Bobby.

Me: What time are you going to be back in the ’Sades?

Bobby: On the way home now, babe. We should be there in maybe two hours if we don’t hit more traffic.

 

Me: Can’t wait.

 

Bobby: Me either. Be ready to hit the road for Santa Cruz the second I get there.

 

Me: The second, huh? Wouldn’t you like a 30 minute layover before you start driving again?

 

Bobby: 30 minutes? Layover’s definitely longer than that.

 

Me: Says who?

 

Bobby: Says you. Love you.

 

Ding.

I check to make sure Zoe won’t catch me—bathroom door closed and water running—then I go to her laptop on the desk and click on her Facebook page. I check the messenger. Yep, new incoming from Natasha.

I open the chat box and my body grows cold even though my heart is pumping so quickly I almost can’t breathe.

Two pictures in a collage side by side.

Where the fuck did Natasha get them?

One of Alan and Khloe.

One of Alan and me.

Headline: Which one does Daddy love?

Khloe captioned: Billion dollar baby.

I’m captioned: Zero dollar baby.

Closing caption: We all know what you are, Kaley.

That’s it. I’m not putting up with this shit one second longer. How the fuck did Natasha get that picture of Khloe? Nope, I don’t care what Zoe says. I’m having it out with her today.

I grab Zoe’s tote. Please, Zoe, I hope you put your phone back in here. I rummage through her stuff, then anxiously toss everything out onto the bed.

An envelope floats to the floor, I pick it up and then my eyes go wide.

She got the kinship lab results and didn’t give them to me. How could Zoe do that? Ripping it open, I sink onto the bed. I pull it from the envelope and then stare at it, stunned.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

This can’t be right.

It’s not possible.

Krystal’s voice rises in my memory. I didn’t just open them. I used them for their intended purpose. One of those is Eric’s. One of those is Ethan’s. One of those is mine.

We’re not half siblings.

None of us.

We all have the same mother and father.

What have my parents done?

How is this possible?

Alan looked me in the eyes.

He said it wasn’t true.

My heart shatters.

For a moment, I believed him.

CHAPTER 23

 

I race through the Malibu house, setting up my cameras on tripods to make sure I catch every inch of footage of what I plan to have go down here, and repeatedly run through my mental checklist.

Load tweets into my Hootsuite so they auto-release.

Schedule Facebook post every thirty minutes.

Make sure the streaming live video feed works.

Record YouTube message for Kaley’s World.

Don’t think of anything else.

You’ll fall apart if you do—but, fuck, how could my parents do this?

No, don’t think about that.

This has to be undeniable.

If it isn’t, Alan will finesse his way out of the truth.

How could he do this to my brothers and sisters? Deny them like he’s always denied me?

Me I could forgive—never hurting them.

No, Kaley, focus on the tasks in your head.