Chapter 6: Unmasked

I took a step and a thread of memory untangled in my head. It played like a scene in front of me, like the rest of the memories I have been getting since I woke up in her body, but I knew it wasn't mine. 

This was Elizabeth's.

Marshall hugging Diana from behind. Diana stealing kisses from him. And one of them making out on the same cushion where they're seated. 

My chest burned.

"Diana wouldn't do this," I told myself. "She wouldn't spit in our sister's face this way."

I forced myself to keep walking and said hello, like I was back in a classroom about to ask an obvious question. My heartbeat thrummed, unable to keep still. My nails dug into my palms, and every breath I took felt like a burn in my throat. 

They turned. But they didn't look guilty or surprised. They looked annoyed, like I was meddling in their business.

That was when it struck me. Lizzie had been a placeholder in her own marriage.

That realization took a toll on me. The wedding she had wanted so badly had been a lie. A cover for these two. 

“She knew and still went ahead with this sham?” I asked myself, fiddling with the side of my dress. 

They killed her. Who else would know Elizabeth this much if not the both of them.

My fingers trembled, and every step I took towards them pressed down on my chest. I can't afford to make mistakes. One wrong move and they will know I am not Elizabeth. If they could kill her, I doubt they would spare me.

I remembered Diana telling me that Marshall was searching for a girl he had deflowered at the Bougainvillea Hotel and how Elizabeth had insisted she was the one. She never mentioned she was already in a relationship with Marshall.

My fingers balled into a fist. But I was helpless in this body. I forced myself to remember that I am in Elizabeth's skin. My job right is to watch, gather evidence that they murdered her and plan my way out of this body before the month ends.

No way I'm staying in a body that's going to get killed in a month’s time. 

"Diana... Marshall," I said, giving each of them a light nod.

"Hope you're feeling better now. How's your head?" Marshall asked casually.

"My head?" I looked at Diana, confused. My heartbeat spiked, my thoughts going over the possibility that I might have spilled my secret while asleep. 

"You fainted a lot yesterday," Diana said, and it made me me exhale. "You should go inside and get some rest,” she added. 

"I'm fine,” I mumbled. 

"Your birthday celebration can wait," Marshall said. "Take care of yourself first."

He said it in a practical tone, straightforward and condescending. Obviously using concern to manage me.

"No need," I said, keeping my voice even. "You don't have to come," I said to Marshall, then turned to Diana. "And you too."

"What? How are you going to stop me from showing up in Marshall's hometown? His mother invited me herself when she volunteered to host it."

I frowned. Lizzie would have told me. Unless Diana was lying.

"You can go then. It's your birthday too. But I'm going home. Charlotte will be waiting for me,” I tried to sound lighthearted and unaffected.

Even though Elizabeth and I fought a lot, we were still closer than she and Diana ever were or could ever be.

Marshall cheating on her with Diana is a headache, but I can't do much in this body. First, I need to find my own body. Then I can out how they had her killed. 

"Has anyone heard from Charlotte?" I asked, ignoring the way Diana leaned back against Marshall.

"You know Charlotte is not buying this caring big sister act,” Diana highlighted. “I will make sure to tell her what you have done."

"And what exactly have I done?"

"Diana," Marshall cautioned, his voice dropping threateningly lower than before.

I waved him off.

"Oh, I don't mind. Your mistress should talk."

His eyes flicked to me. I held his gaze before turning back to Diana. "Go on then. It couldn't be worse than when you tried to kill our own sister with a Benelli M4. Yes, Diana. I know."

I was trying to hold myself together. To keep my mask on. But whatever she meant might be the answer to what happened to our sister, Elizabeth. And I intend to make her talk.

She bit her lip and stammered, and then she let it out. "Well, I wasn't the one who stole the man she was supposed to marry. I know you weren't the one Marshall deflowered.”

My brows knitted in a frown. She told me this before the wedding. That was how I knew what Lizzie had done. But in this timeline, she hasn't.

This is not how I remember the events. 

“You have no evidence, do you?” I quizzed, hiding the quiver of my voice. I needed her to talk.

“Evidence? What other evidence do I need when I'm aware Gabriel Washington already did that job over a year ago."

My heart faltered. My lips parted, but nothing came out.

Gabriel Washington. As in, my boyfriend. The same man who abandoned me at the Bougainvillea hotel. Deflowered Elizabeth?

It was because of Gabriel Washington that I went to the Bougainvillea Hotel in the first place. I was ready to let him have me, to seal us. He never showed up. Four months together and he abandoned me. 

I ended up getting deflowered by Marshall. My real self might still be carrying his child.

Suddenly I didn't feel like leaving my sister's body until I was certain of the state of my real body. Being pregnant in my own timeline while here could put that child at risk. 

"Not so sharp now? What happened to your tongue?" Diana said.

"Stop," Marshall intervened, his voice rasping. He turned to me, his voice low and controlled. "Everything is ready, and I'm certain your sister is well."

“I need to find her.” I said to him, my breathing shallow, careful not to offend him. 

“Elizabeth!” His voice sliced through with burning irritation.

"I need to go home," I said, to no one in particular, and turned to go upstairs to get dressed properly.

"You have nothing to worry about, Liz. I believe Charlotte can take care of herself..."

"Thanks, Marshall. But I know my sister better than you do."

"Stop." He ordered and I froze on the steps.

He took slow strides toward me and stopped inches from my face.

"If Diana is right, you lied your way into this," he said quietly. "I don't know what you imagined you would gain, but there's no way you're backing out now. The whole country knows I'm married to you. I won't have you ruin my reputation."

I tilted my head in disbelief.

Did he just threaten me? Could it be that she wanted to leave and that's why they killed her?

How did it not occur to me that my sister grew quieter because him?

"It's important to me. I had a terrible dream about her," I explained, my voice down. "You can come with me if that will put your mind at ease. Otherwise, you're welcome to avoid me."

I went upstairs, got dressed, and came back down. Marshall wasn't in the sitting room.

"He's freshening up," Diana said, crossing her arms.

"Do you think you will win his affection this way?"

I tried to ignore her, but she didn't stop.

"You know, I had your fortune read," she said impatiently. "I was assured you won't live beyond the month of the wedding. I don't need to soil my hands. You're going to die anyway."

My palms went slick with sweat.