Truth or Dare . . by P.J. Night

were ruined. And every time she saw me, Aunt Stacy started to cry. It’s been horrible.
    â€œI started spending all my time in Sara’s room, with the door closed,” Samantha continued. “Just to spare my poor aunt Stacy the sight of me. And I did something bad. I started reading Sara’s diary. And her e-mails. I learned all about her school and her friends and her boyfriend.She did all the things I might have done here if only I didn’t look so much like her,” she added bitterly.
    â€œSo you went through all of Sara’s stuff,” Jake finally spoke up. “And then what? You wanted to, like, take over her life?”
    â€œYou have to understand. I haven’t seen Sara since we were, like, three years old,” Samantha replied, visibly upset with herself. “So of course I was sad to hear that she died, but I didn’t know her. I didn’t even know anything about her until I started living in her room. Aunt Stacy and Uncle Steven hadn’t changed a thing about it. Even Sara’s e-mail account was still active. And it wasn’t hard to guess her e-mail password—JAKE.”
    Samantha turned to Jake. “I know I never should have done it,” she said. “But I read all the e-mails you sent her. You were always so sweet and funny and really lovely to her. Nothing like the boys at home. I wanted to meet you more than anything. Because I thought if you’d liked Sara, maybe you might like me as well.”
    Abby spoke quickly, before Jake could respond. “I don’t understand. If you were stuck in Sara’s room, how did you even know about me or that Jake and I were . . .”
    â€œOne day I couldn’t take it any longer,” Samanthaexplained. “I simply had to get out of that house. Uncle Steven was out, and Aunt Stacy was asleep, so I pinned my hair under a cap and put on my sunglasses and snuck out! I took Sara’s bike out of the garage and just rode down the street, feeling the sun, breathing the fresh air, and then I came to a bunch of shops, and I went into one—a grocery store, it was. And—you were there, Abby. You and your friend . . . the blond one . . .”
    â€œLeah,” Abby said.
    â€œAnd you both seemed so happy, and I wished so much that I was going to your sleepover party that night.” Samantha covered her face with her hands. “What I did next . . . I’m so embarrassed. I followed your mum’s car home, Abby. I thought that maybe even if I couldn’t really attend your party, I could still listen to all the fun you and your friends would have.”
    Abby suddenly remembered something. “Were you in the woods early in the evening?” she asked.
    Samantha nodded miserably. “I heard you call out, but I couldn’t answer, of course. And then once the sleepover started, I sat by the basement window. And then I overheard you talking about Jake and I ran back home. By the time I got back to Uncle Steven’s house, Iwas so angry and so jealous. Because if Jake started to go out with you, what chance was there for me?”
    â€œSo you texted me,” Abby continued for her. “In the middle of the night, from your own phone. That’s why I didn’t recognize the number.”
    â€œI just wanted to frighten you enough that you’d stay away from Jake,” Samantha admitted. “But then I was hanging around outside the school a few days later and I saw you walking home with him and I followed you. I heard every word you said. You’d be surprised how easily you can follow someone and never be noticed. Neither of you ever even knew I was there!”
    Samantha paused. “Well, that’s not quite right, actually. Because I followed you all the way to your house, Abby, and later I even peeked in your window. You looked so happy, modeling that beautiful top in the mirror, and I was so angry! And then