Mr Vega stomped into the room behind Olivia, a clothing catalogue in his hand. ‘Quick, everyone: pick out more bunny clothes! The uglier, the better.’
‘Don’t we have enough already?’ Ivy said, without looking away from the screen of the laptop.
‘Who knows how long the VITs will be in town? And Horatio has got enough on his plate without having to wash a bunch of bunny clothes.’
Olivia was impressed: her bio-dad finally seemed to be really getting into the spirit of all this! Until now, he’d always seemed too distracted to completely participate. She gave him an approving smile.
He leaned over to mutter in her ear on his way to the table, ‘I was meant to be getting ready for this afternoon’s engagement party by now!’
Aha. Olivia hid a smile. There was still a little bit of the Groomzilla lurking beneath her bio-dad’s surface after all.
‘There you are!’ Ivy finally turned around and saw Olivia. Looking even paler than usual, she gave a weak smile and waved Olivia over. ‘Um, there’s something I need to tell you.’
‘We’ll be back in just a moment, my dears.’ The Countess rose hastily, giving her husband a meaningful look. ‘I think Horatio may need some calming in the kitchen.’
‘He is a perfectionist, you know!’ the Count said jovially. ‘That’s why his bread is so excellent.’ Despite his hearty tone, Olivia caught the worry in his eyes as he looked from one granddaughter to the other.
Uh-oh.
Olivia waited until their grandparents had left the room before she moved cautiously to perch on the chair next to Ivy’s. What’s this about ? Olivia thought. I can’t bear another argument. The air felt thick with tension. Olivia clasped her hands together to keep them from tapping on the table. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘First . . .’ Ivy took a deep breath. ‘I want to apologise to you for being so tetchy lately.’
Olivia felt a rush of relief. ‘That’s OK.’ She shrugged, but it was an effort to smile. Don’t cry! Whatever you do, don’t cry ! ‘I understand it’s been a tricky time.’
‘I’m still sorry.’ Ivy reached into a bag that sat underneath the table. ‘And I made this for you.’
Olivia gasped. A pretty pink corsage lay in her sister’s pale hand. Mingled in with the pink blossoms, she saw pink rhinestones.
Now tears really burned behind Olivia’s eyes. She knew exactly why Ivy had picked those rhinestones – to match the pink rhinestone cowboy hat Jackson had once bought Olivia, the one she still cherished even after everything that had happened.
Nobody knew her as well as her sister.
Olivia’s smile was wobbly as she blinked back her tears. ‘Didn’t you come out in hives, just making the thing? I thought you were allergic to pink.’
‘I’m not allergic to anything about you.’ Ivy reached over and pinned the corsage to Olivia’s T-shirt, her long dark hair falling around her face. ‘Will you forgive me for being such an idiot?’
Olivia threw her arms around Ivy, finally letting the tears escape. ‘Of course I will. You’re my best friend, and you always will be.’
As she spoke the words, all the tension she’d been carrying for days fell away from her, and she realized it was the truth. This summer might have been strained, but she knew without a doubt that one thing would always be true: her twin would always be there for her.
‘Well.’ Ivy’s eyes looked suspiciously red as she drew back; she sniffed hard. ‘Talking of friends . . .’ She stiffened her shoulders, looking as if she were bracing herself for an attack. ‘You need to see this.’
She turned the laptop round so that Olivia could see what was on the screen.
Olivia leaned forwards, peering at the group of thumbnail-sized photos. ‘Headstones. It’s the graveyard.’
‘That’s right. Where I went to meet the vampire hunter.’ Ivy took a deep breath and clicked on the last thumbnail. ‘And there she is: Holly. She’s the blogger.’
‘What?!’ Olivia threw herself back in the chair. Her heartbeat sped up until it hurt her chest. ‘I can’t believe it.’
Ivy looked miserable. ‘I promise I wouldn’t make it up.’
‘I know that,’ Olivia shook her head. ‘I mean, the evidence is right in front of me. But Holly . . .!’ She stared at the photo: Holly’s face shadowed by the hood of her sweatshirt as she stood between two headstones.
Holly was the blogger, the one who’d threatened Olivia’s family and their friends. Holly, who’d been so kind to Olivia, such a good friend to her. Holly . . .
Olivia swallowed hard and tried to think logically, even though the betrayal made her burn. ‘The thing is, despite what you think of her, I just can’t believe that she’s really a bad person. She must have a reason for doing this.’
‘Olivia . . .’
‘Ever since I met her, my instinct has always been to trust her.’
‘I understand that.’ From the strain on Ivy’s face, Olivia could see that her twin was working hard to stay outwardly calm and reasonable. ‘But can you see that some of the things Holly’s been saying just don’t match up?’
Olivia bit her lip. She didn’t answer.
‘For example . . .’ Ivy leaned forwards. ‘Remember how she said she might be too shy to meet that author? But from the way she spoke to him at the book-signing – and the way he recognised her at first sight – it definitely looked as if that wasn’t their first chat.’
‘She was really upset at the end of it,’ Olivia said slowly. ‘And the author seemed so angry about something she’d done.’
Ivy frowned. ‘You know, you’re right. He didn’t just seem annoyed, the way he would be at a fan who was getting pushy. He looked almost disappointed angry.’ She paused, her frown deepening. ‘There was something about his expression that looked familiar to me at the time, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.’
‘What do you mean?’ Olivia asked. ‘Had you met him somewhere before?’
‘No,’ Ivy said. ‘But I’ve seen that expression a lot lately – on my angry relatives.’
Olivia sucked in a breath as the realisation rocketed through her. ‘Could that be it? She’s always talking about Bare Throats at Sunset. But if she was somehow related to the author, why wouldn’t she have said so? And what’s this got to do with the blog?’