Whispers of Deception

Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

T he chandelier light above the dining room cast a soft golden glow, and the low hum of voices surrounded Augustus as he sat stiffly in his chair. The fundraiser dinner stretched on endlessly, each course bleeding into the next, the quiet clinking of silverware and glasses a constant accompaniment to the hushed conversations happening around him.

The room was packed with people—wealthy donors, prominent local figures, and students from Hawthorne. Augustus felt the weight of it all pressing down on him, like the formalities and the expectations were slowly suffocating him. He glanced across the room at Lilia, who sat a few tables away, looking just as tense. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and something passed between them—an acknowledgment of the shared unease. They were both waiting, watching, waiting for something to happen.

He turned back to his own table, his parents on either side of him, their presence like a heavy shadow. His mother was engaged in polite conversation with another donor, her voice smooth and practiced. His father, sitting beside him, had been stiff and silent since their argument earlier that morning. Augustus’ stomach twisted. He knew the tension between them wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Across the room, Sebastian was leaning back in his chair, a glass of champagne in hand, already looking like he’d had one too many. He flashed Augustus a grin, trying to lighten the mood. But even Sebastian, who was rarely fazed by anything, seemed to feel the same suffocating atmosphere. Augustus returned a weak smile, but it felt forced. It felt like everything was just a performance—like they were all playing roles in some grand production that had spiraled out of their control.

Then the doors opened.

The shift in the room was immediate. Conversations quieted, heads turned, and Augustus felt a shiver run down his spine as a wave of unease washed over him. He didn’t know why—maybe it was the sudden hush, maybe it was the way the air seemed to grow heavier—but something told him to look up.

There they were, standing at the entrance to the grand dining hall like a family on display: Mayor Montgomery, his wife, and—Amelia.

Augustus blinked. His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Amelia was dressed in Willow’s clothes, her hair styled exactly like Willow used to wear it, down to the soft waves that framed her face. Her glasses were gone, and for a moment, Augustus swore he was seeing a ghost.

“What the f—” Augustus started, his voice rough and disbelieving, but he was cut off by a sharp kick under the table. His mother shot him a glare, her lips pressed into a tight line, warning him to stay silent.

Across the room, Sebastian choked on his champagne, sputtering obnoxiously as the bubbles went down the wrong way. His eyes were wide, locked on Amelia. The reaction was almost comical, but no one was laughing.

Amelia. But not just Amelia. She looked like Willow. Exactly like Willow. The resemblance was uncanny.

Augustus’ heart pounded in his chest, and he glanced toward Lilia again. She was staring too, her face pale, her expression unreadable. She didn’t even seem to blink as she took in the sight of Amelia, paraded around by Mayor Montgomery, who introduced her to people with a wide, charming smile. It was the same smile he used to wear when showing off Willow. Like Amelia was some new prize, a replacement for what he had lost.

It was eerie. Disturbing. And yet Amelia—she seemed to be loving it. She was soaking in the attention, smiling warmly at everyone who greeted her, her hand brushing over her newly styled hair as if she couldn’t believe the transformation herself.

The group chat buzzed in Augustus’ pocket. He pulled out his phone under the table, seeing the flood of messages from their friends.

Delilah

Tell me I’m not hallucinating.

Augustus

You’re not.

Eleanor

That’s insane. Literally uncanny valley.

Sebastian

This has to be a sick joke.

Augustus could practically hear the disbelief and disgust in Sebastian’s tone, even through the text. He kept glancing back at Amelia, his expression twisting with confusion. How was this happening? How could anyone think this was normal?

He snuck another look across the room at Lilia, hoping she might give him some kind of clue, some shared understanding of the madness unfolding around them. But Lilia wasn’t texting. She wasn’t looking at her phone at all. She was still staring at Amelia, her eyes locked on her like she was trying to decipher a code that didn’t make sense. Augustus could see it in the way her brows furrowed slightly, the way her lips pressed together in that tense, quiet way she had when she was deep in thought.

And then there was the mayor. He was all smiles, introducing Amelia to important guests and fellow donors, his hand lightly resting on her shoulder as though she were his shining star. And the worst part—Amelia seemed to be reveling in it. She had always been shy, always so quiet and reserved, but now? She was stepping into Willow’s shoes with alarming ease, letting herself be molded into whatever the mayor needed her to be. She had ditched the glasses, was sporting Willow’s old clothes, and—most disturbingly of all—she seemed to be enjoying it.

Lilia’s fingers finally moved over her phone, quick and precise, the familiar notification of their group chat buzzing in Augustus’ lap. He flicked his eyes down to read the message.

Lilia

Update the suspect list

Delilah

Who?

There was a pause. Augustus looked back up at Lilia, waiting.

Another buzz.

Lilia

Amelia Montgomery.

Sebastian groaned across the room, his expression turning dark as he shot Augustus a look that said everything—this was too much. Too damn much.

Augustus wanted to respond, to add something to the conversation, but his mind was a blur. He couldn’t stop staring at Amelia, couldn’t shake the deep sense of unease that gnawed at his stomach. He knew it wasn’t fair to judge someone for their grief, but this? This was more than grief. This was...off. Wrong in every possible way.

His father gave him a nudge, forcing Augustus back into the moment. “Smile,” Damien muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the room to see if anyone had noticed their distraction. “You’re on display here.”

But Augustus couldn’t smile. All he could do was watch as Amelia continued to play her part, sliding into the role that had once belonged to Willow. And the longer he watched, the more the bile rose in his throat. Something wasn’t right.

No one could replace Willow. Not like this.

And yet, here they were, watching it unfold like some twisted play.

And he couldn’t stop it.

The room was dimly lit, the distant glow of the streetlamp outside casting long shadows against Lilia’s walls. It was quiet, almost too quiet compared to the commotion at the fundraiser. The heavy velvet curtains were drawn, and the old, dark wood furniture added to the suffocating ambiance. Augustus sat on the floor near the foot of Lilia’s bed, his back resting against the wall, still reeling from the bizarre spectacle they’d witnessed. His suit jacket had been discarded on the chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up as if he needed the freedom to think.

Delilah paced back and forth near the window, her heels tapping rhythmically against the floor. She’d been the first to bolt from the event, her head swimming with disbelief. Now, standing in Lilia’s room, she looked like she might explode with all the pent-up energy she was struggling to keep in.

“What the hell was that?” Delilah finally said, breaking the silence.

No one answered immediately. Eleanor was perched on the edge of Lilia’s bed, staring at her phone as though it held some kind of answer. Sebastian leaned against the dresser, arms crossed over his chest, his expression a mixture of disbelief and lingering shock. Lilia sat cross-legged at the head of the bed, her back pressed into the pillows. She hadn’t said much since they arrived, but Augustus could feel the tension radiating from her.

“I don’t know,” Lilia said quietly, her voice sounding distant, almost detached. Her fingers idly toyed with the edge of the comforter, her brow furrowed as if she were trying to make sense of something incomprehensible. “But it’s weird. Really, really weird.”

“Weird doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Sebastian scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “She’s dressing like her dead sister, for God’s sake. And her dad—he’s . . . it’s like he’s pretending nothing ever happened. Like Willow never existed.”

“I knew there was something off about Amelia,” Eleanor muttered. “But this . . . this is next-level insane. It’s like she’s trying to be Willow.”

“She’s gone full-on Single White Female,” Delilah said, throwing her hands up. “I mean, she’s literally stepping into her sister’s life. The clothes, the hair, the makeup—it’s like she’s transforming into her.”

Augustus let out a long breath, pressing his fingers into his temples. “It’s not just that,” he said, his voice low, thoughtful. “It’s the way everyone reacted to her tonight. Like it was normal for her to look like Willow. Like they didn’t even see how disturbing it was.”

Delilah stopped pacing long enough to look at him. “You noticed that too, right? I thought I was going crazy. It was like the whole room just accepted it.”

“It’s like they wanted her to be Willow,” Eleanor added. “They were all just going along with it.”

Augustus’ mind drifted back to the way Willow’s father had introduced Amelia to people, the way he paraded her around like she was some prize to be shown off. The whole thing had been off, deeply unsettling. But what disturbed him the most was how comfortable Amelia had seemed in that role. She had embraced it, thrived in it, like she had been waiting for this moment.

Lilia’s voice cut through the fog of his thoughts. “Her father was treating her like she was Willow,” she said, her voice tight with frustration. “I saw him do the same thing with Willow at events like these. The way he fawned over her, put her on display—he’s doing it again. With Amelia.”

Eleanor nodded. “And Amelia’s just eating it up. Like she’s enjoying it.”

“It’s like she’s been preparing for this,” Lilia said softly. Her eyes flicked up to meet Augustus’. “Like she’s been waiting for a chance to step into Willow’s shoes.”

Augustus clenched his jaw, the unease settling deeper into his gut. “There’s no way this is just her coping with grief,” he muttered. “It’s too deliberate. Too calculated.”

“So, she’s definitely on the suspect list now, right?” Delilah said, echoing the message Lilia had sent earlier. “Because this is getting insane.”

Lilia nodded slowly. “She’s acting strange, but there’s more going on here than just Amelia wanting to be Willow.”

Delilah’s pacing resumed, more frantic this time. “This can’t be just some grieving sister thing. What if she’s trying to cover something up?”

Sebastian shot her a skeptical look. “Cover what up?”

Delilah stopped, her hands clenched into fists. “What if Amelia had something to do with Willow’s death? What if she’s guilty, and now she’s trying to, I don’t know—erase Willow and take her place?”

The room fell into silence again as the weight of her words hung in the air. The idea sounded ridiculous, even outlandish, but none of them could deny how deeply disturbing Amelia’s behavior was. And there was something unsettling in the way she had stepped into Willow’s life so seamlessly, as though it had all been planned.

Eleanor broke the silence. “It’s not impossible,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “She’s acting like she has something to prove. Something to hide.”

Lilia’s gaze drifted over to the stack of papers on her desk—research they’d all been compiling in the days since the audio had leaked. Clippings, police reports, interviews, all of it leading them deeper into the labyrinth that was Willow’s life, and now, Amelia’s twisted mirror of it.

Augustus looked at the others, each of them lost in thought, their minds racing to connect the dots that had eluded them for so long. Then, as if sensing they were all on the edge of something, Lilia finally spoke again.

“We need to figure out what the hell is going on,” she said firmly.

Augustus nodded in agreement, the weight of their task pressing down on them. He glanced at the others—his friends—and saw the same determination etched on their faces. This was becoming more than they thought.

Lilia’s phone buzzed again, breaking the tense silence. She glanced down at the screen and frowned before sharing the message with the others.

“McCall wants to meet,” she said. “Tomorrow morning. Says he has something to show us.”

The room went still again, the implications of McCall’s message settling over them like a heavy fog. Whatever he had to show them, it was bound to shift everything once again.

But for tonight, all they could do was wait—and wonder just how deep this rabbit hole would go.

And whether they’d survive the fall.