I glanced to the front of the van. I could see March scrolling through his phone with his right hand and the steering wheel in the left. I texted my love within our group chat of Zara, Asra, Tony, and Arkady. “[March] is texting while driving. If I don’t make it out of this, remember me in my last moments. Reclining on a chaise lounge in the back of a Uhaul, riding this out Wilde style.”
That’s when Arkady had dropped the bombshell. “[Ash] believes they’re March’s dead twin,” I’d seen March talk about his twin before. I’d seen posts about how this beloved sibling had died of an overdose at the ripe young age of 15– in some posts, 16. In one post, 17. There were no photos, no documents, no proof that the story itself had existed prior to 2018. But I didn’t know that then.
Do I think Ash is evil? No. But the truth seems to be that that they’re so easily influenced by whoever is their favourite person at the time that you practically have to cryogenically seal them to trust them– Encourage a friend’s suicide? Blame Lapa. Turn on your fiance? Blame Sedona. Go through March’s documents? All my influence, obviously. Going through my journals? All Seven. I mean, all justified– I mean–