Chapter Twelve: Henri
"I can't believe you told Abi we were married."
Hunter wore a lopsided grin as he watched Ginger behind the bar. She was taking out her aggression on the counter, on stains that were not even there.
"Why not?" he asked, trying not to chuckle. "It's not like I haven't asked often enough."
"Hunter..."
He held up a hand. "Don't get your panties in a twist. I told her that to keep her safe."
"Safe? How is that supposed to keep her safe?"
"Did you see her face? There's no way she will come back here if she thinks she's going to run into the happy newlyweds." He toasted her with his bottle of water, but Ginger remained unconvinced – for one reason above any other.
And that reason was standing in Abigail's living room at that very moment.
Raven Crowe went through the photos in frames that sat on a densely filled bookcase. There he saw a much younger Abigail next to a much younger Ginger – before her punk hairdo and fuck off persona. He picked up the frame to examine it closer.
"Well at least she can't complain that anyone mistake the two of us," Abi said as she came up from behind.
"Twins?" Raven asked.
"No," she replied as she replaced the photo. "She's older. But we were always mistaken as twins when we were growing up. Probably because our mother insisted we dress alike; wear our hair the same. We really weren't encouraged to develop personalities of our own. She's certainly corrected that problem."
Raven watched her go over to the couch and flop down. "Why's she here?"
Abi shrugged. "Who knows?" Then, with effort. "Maybe a honeymoon."
Raven went over to armchair next to the sofa. "Tell me about Hunter."
She closed her eyes. "I'd rather not."
Raven had to laugh. "The journalist doesn't answer questions, I take it?"
She peered at him through one partially opened eye. "Something like that."
He simply waited. She held out for about a minute and a half. "Hunter was Ginger's high school sweetheart. They dated the entire four years. They were the 'perfect' couple."
"And you hated them," He surmised.
"I hated them." She sat up with a sigh. "We looked alike but we are fundamentally different. I always felt like I was running to catch up. She barely had to study and she'd get good grades. Yet I always managed to get distracted and 'fail to live up to my potential' – which was code for being like her. But I wasn't her. I was me."
He waited and he watched. She hopped up and began to pace.