You Will Remember Me by Hannah McKinnon (best sales books of all time txt) 📕

Most people would be surprised to learn how easy it is to make someone disappear. I checked the weather, made sure I knew when to expect the most torrential rain, a mere two days after I’d killed Lily. Historic levels, they’d said. July Fourth festivities canceled. The threat of riverbanks bursting. An increased risk of accidents. Everyone had been advised to stay home and avoid unnecessary travel and so I let Patrick know I could come in to work after all. And what do you know, while I was there, he found a misplaced envelope with six hundred and eighty-three bucks in his office, where it had “slipped” behind a cabinet.

“Lily must have put it there for some reason and I didn’t see it,” Patrick had said, putting a hand to his chest as he let out an emphatic sigh before running a theatrical hand over his brow. “Thank God. That would’ve been so embarrassing. I don’t want to lose Lily, she’s an amazing worker and everyone loves her. You were right, and I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions like that.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t kill her,” I said with a smile. “Actually, seeing as I’m not taking time off, she was hoping I could cover her shifts for the next couple of days. She and Ash are quite the lovebirds and want to go on that road trip together instead. I said I didn’t mind and I’m happy to help. And I was wrong. Things between them are working out after all.”

“How lovely,” he said, beaming. Of course. Everybody loved Lily.

“Between you and me,” I whispered, leaning in, “she’s moving here permanently and I’m so excited. It’ll be like having a sister.”

Patrick had agreed to my covering her shifts, as I knew he would, and I sent a message to Lily’s phone, telling her about the good news. Once I got home after work, I implemented the next part of my plan, texting Sam from Lily’s cell.

The pill stuff was a big misunderstanding. Ash and I are okay. Things are great and back on track!

His reply was swift. Congratulations. I’m so happy for you both.

I’d left it an hour or so, before replying, We’re leaving for Brookmount soon. We’ll speak to the cops, pick up his things and I’m moving to Maine. I can’t wait!

Cue multiple heart-eyes emojis, to which he’d replied with a series of happy faces. The genius of modern technology. You can pretend to be anyone if you have their details, although using her credit card had been a problem. Turned out Little Miss Spender had almost no money left, but I’d found a way around that.

Thanks so much for offering to pay for our flights back home! I texted from her phone to mine. It’s the most generous thing anyone has ever done for me.

You’re so welcome, Lily. Anything to make you and Ash happy.

I’ll admit to gagging a little when I wrote the reply, and again when I used my card to pay for a one-way flight from Maryland to Portland for both her and Ash, selecting dates a week out. Money well spent, in the end.

And then I implemented the final part of the vanishing act.

There’s a point between Newdale and Yarmouth, where the road goes over a wide, fast-flowing river, a notorious spot for accidents because it’s a long stretch followed by a sharp bend and a bridge. There’s been talk about improving it for years, and all the locals know to slow down. Except Lily wasn’t a local, and Ash wouldn’t have remembered the treacherous curve. It’s an easy place to push a car into the river without making the accident obvious. After all, I couldn’t have the authorities finding it too quickly, and once I’d smashed the window from the inside and cleaned up the glass, got the empty car in the water and watched it bob around before it slowly tipped forward and disappeared, I shivered with delight. I wasn’t sure where it might end up, but with the amount of rain coming down, it would take a long while to be found.

My plan had to be flawless, and the execution of it even better, and so, two days later, I alerted the authorities. I told them I hadn’t heard from Ash or Lily, insisting something must have happened to them. I cried and begged them to do something, anything, to find my brother and his girlfriend. I played the terrified stepsister so well I deserved all the fucking Oscars. When the police found out Ash had disappeared before, had lived under a fake name in Brookmount and that Lily was an ex-con, their interest in the alleged missing persons case all but disappeared.

I waited, crying on Barbara’s, Patrick’s and Fiona’s shoulders, and, finally, after almost ten weeks—longer than I thought—Ricky came to the house, his mood somber. They’d found Lily’s car more than a mile downstream from the bridge, completely submerged. There were no bodies, but Ash’s and Lily’s bags were in the trunk, her purse containing her wallet and phone still wedged under the seat. I cried when Ricky told me how the driver’s window had been broken in their apparent attempt to escape, sobbed when he reassured me they’d do everything possible to recover Ash and Lily, although I had to understand there was a possibility they’d been swept out to sea.

In less than a day the news spread. People rallied around me—making calls, bringing casseroles, stopping by for visits I made sure got cut short. This phase, too, did pass. Before long they got back to their lives, no doubt grateful theirs wasn’t filled with as much tragedy. People have stopped coming to see the girl who lives alone in the quirky old house on the cliffs. With all the heartbreak, I think they believe its occupants are cursed.

Patrick offered me some time off, but I wouldn’t take it. There’s a rumor going around about me officially becoming