by Diana Urban
“I . . . it’s a long story. I might’ve gone a bit overboard with the whole bomb thing—”
Diego guffawed, gripping his hair. “You think? Holy shit . . .”
Priya’s mouth was agape. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you would do this.”
“Wait, let me explain . . .” I swallowed hard. “I just kind of lost it when you didn’t want to be friends with me anymore.” I took Priya’s hand, and she let me. “You’re like my sister . . . and I couldn’t bear to lose another one. I blamed myself. I turned a blind eye to your pain, and what Sasha was doing to you. So I wanted to make it up to you.”
“But why this?” Priya gripped her throat. “Why did you do this?”
The paramedics started back over, and I held out a finger. “Wait! Five more minutes.” I couldn’t let Priya go to the hospital without an explanation. “Please. She’s not in immediate danger, right?”
The paramedic raised two fingers. “You’ve got two minutes.” She shook her head at her colleague.
I turned back to Priya and Diego and lowered my voice. “I mainly did it to get revenge on Sasha. So we could all get revenge on her. I never meant to kill her. I just wanted to teach her a lesson. She’s so damn selfish; I knew she’d want to kill someone first. I thought I could use that—and expose all the horrible things she’s done—to turn everyone against her.” I laughed bitterly. “It turns out she did even more than I thought.”
I’d always planned to reveal how Sasha bullied Priya despite knowing what happened to Maggie, thinking it would seal everyone’s decision to choose her. But I had no idea Sasha herself was the one who bullied Maggie.
“But,” I went on, “I thought if everyone chose her to die, she’d finally see how horrible she was. I thought I could get her to change . . . to apologize. And I figured that would be worth one hour of fear—one hour of thinking this might be the end—because that hour would end years of abuse for everyone.
“But I never meant for anyone to get hurt; I didn’t think every possibility through. Scott falling, the glass, the heat . . . and I didn’t think people would be so eager to stab each other with that syringe.” I glared at Robbie, who sat against the building, holding his head in his hands. “I thought, at the very worst, someone would try to inject the poison, and of course, nothing would happen. It’d suck if it happened before making the point to Sasha, but everyone would realize the whole thing was a prank, and the delivery guy would eventually let us out.
“But I never for one second imagined people would think it was real even after the fake poison dribbled out everywhere. I thought for sure everyone would realize it was all a joke. I was an idiot—I’d cleared all the knives from the room ahead of time, and I never thought people would try to use other things to kill each other, or to choke each other . . . I didn’t think of everything.”
Diego folded his arms, clasping his mouth. “My God.” I couldn’t read Priya’s stony expression.
“It was stupid,” I said. “I’m stupid. But when I was planning this, it all made perfect sense . . .” I shook my head and tightened the blanket over my shoulders. “Anyway, that paramedic is going to have a seizure if she doesn’t get you to the hospital. And I have to go tell the cops before my parents get here.” I started toward the nearest police officer, my feet crunching over gravel on the sidewalk.
“Wait, wait.” Diego grabbed my arm. “What are you going to say?”
“I’m going to tell them what I did. That I was behind this. That this was all my fault.” I glanced at Priya, who stared at the white sheet draped over her lap, deep in thought. “I can’t let Priya take the fall for this. I’m the one who put us in there.”
Diego wiped his upper lip. “Maybe you don’t need to. Maybe they wouldn’t find out the truth. Like I said, I don’t think Priya will be in trouble.” I stared at him with my mouth slightly open, aghast. I couldn’t believe that even after learning the truth, he didn’t hate me. That he didn’t want me to get in trouble. “You did it to stop Sasha from hurting people. Granted, it was a pretty messed-up way to go about it. But you were trying to stop a bully.”
“But I was the bully tonight.” I jabbed a finger at my chest. “I have to tell the truth. Even if Priya doesn’t get in trouble . . . it’s my fault she’ll have to live with this for the rest of her life.”
Priya’s expression softened. “But . . . your intentions weren’t evil. And if Sasha hadn’t lost it at the end, like the selfish brat she was, and if I didn’t . . .” She clamped her lips for a moment, like she was holding back vomit. Even after Sasha was dead, Priya would never take her side over mine. Like a true friend. Like how I should have sided with her all along. “Anyway, you never meant for anyone to die.”
I scrunched my forehead. That was the same as saying Sasha didn’t mean to kill Maggie. But in a way, she did kill her. Even though Maggie was already sick, Sasha was her last straw. Instead of relief washing over me at Priya’s words, I felt an overpowering guilt. Sasha had died because of my actions. Priya might have been the one who stabbed her, but if I didn’t set up this horrible prank, if I didn’t trap everyone in that room, one more human being would still be alive on this planet. My actions caused her death, and no matter her flaws, no matter what she did to my sister, and to Priya, killing her wasn’t justified. Even Sasha deserved a chance at redemption, and I snatched it away from her. This was all my fault. If I’d torn down Sasha’s future, why should I get to build my own?
It’d be so easy to let myself fold into Diego’s arms and be Priya’s best friend again and be done with this horrible night, the secret tucked away in each of our hearts as we each went off to college and accomplished our dreams.
But I couldn’t take the easy way out.
And that was it. That was the difference between Sasha and me. We both had made mistakes. We both had caused others pain to get our way. The difference was that when she understood the consequences of her actions, she didn’t stop. She kept bullying. She kept lying.
But I was going to stop. I was going to set things right.
“No. I have to turn myself in. I did this. I can’t just stay quiet and hope this goes away. I have to confess. If I try to get away with this, I’ll be just as bad as Sasha. This was my fault. I have to own up to it. Hopefully . . . hopefully they’ll see I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Amber”—Priya grabbed my hand again—“whatever happens . . . I want you to know you’ll always be my sister. No matter what.” That was what I wanted most from tonight. And it was all I needed to know I was doing the right thing. I hugged her again, until the paramedics took her away from me and lifted her stretcher into the ambulance. Once the ambulance pulled away, I trudged toward the police to turn myself in.
“Wait!” Diego called after me, and I froze again. “I have one question. Who’s Meagan Abbie? You know, the person who ordered the cupcakes?”
I brushed my bangs aside and tucked the ends behind my ear. “That was my sister’s name. Maggie was her nickname.”
In a way, maybe this was all for her. I wanted to prevent people from hurting anyone else the way they hurt Maggie. But the last hour was born out of anger, desperation, and revenge . . . and now I had to find forgiveness.
I had to forgive people like Sasha, who crushed others to feel better about themselves. I might never know if Sasha was a true narcissist, but if so . . . maybe she couldn’t help the way she was. I had to forgive Maggie for taking herself from this world, when she could have asked for help, and when none of us were ready for her to leave. But she wasn’t being selfish. She was sick. She was sick, and I wasn’t there for her when she needed me.
I was the selfish one. In my quest to redeem myself, and get revenge on Sasha, and regain Priya’s friendship, and all the rest of it, I’d put everyone through hell.
Now I couldn’t be selfish anymore. No matter how hard it would be, no matter how much trouble I’d be in, I had to do the right thing. I had to face the music, even if it meant I’d nev
er write music again. Even if it meant giving up my spot at USC. Even if it meant I’d never see my dreams come true.
And hopefully someday I’d learn to forgive myself. But that would take a hell of a lot longer than an hour.
Author’s Note
Suicide is the second leading cause of death for people ages 10–24—yet four out of five teens who attempt suicide have shown clear warning signs. If someone you know is struggling, you can make a difference. You can get them help.
Here are some of the warning signs that can help you determine if a friend or family member is at risk:
Talking about killing themselves, feeling hopeless, feeling trapped, having no reason to live, being a burden to others, or feeling unbearable pain.
Looking for ways to end their lives (e.g. researching methods online).
Withdrawing from activities, family, and friends.
Giving away prized possessions.
Saying goodbye to family and friends.
Being excessively moody, aggressive, depressed, or anxious.
Sleeping too much or too little.
Increasing their use of drugs or alcohol.
If you are having suicidal thoughts, please know that it’s not a sign of weakness. Know that it’s not your fault. And you are not alone. There are people who love you and would miss you terribly, and there are people who can help.
If you’ve had suicidal thoughts, or know someone who displays the warning signs above, please don’t keep it a secret. Please reach out for help. Contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255). You can also learn more at www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org.
Acknowledgments
I spent the last hour staring at this blank page, wondering who to possibly thank first. My path to publication was long and twisty, and so many people helped me along the way.
First, I want to thank you. Thank you for choosing this book and spending your time with my characters. It still blows my mind that anyone wants to read my words, and I’m so grateful that you did.
This book would not be an actual book without my talented editor, Catherine Wallace. Thank you for loving and championing this story, and for making my dreams come true. You’re a true character development genius, and your guidance made this book sparkle. Working with you has been such a delight, and I can never thank you enough. Thanks also to Christina MacDonald, my keen-eyed copy editor; Alexandra Rakaczki, my production editor; Vanessa Nuttry, my production manager; Shannon Cox, my marketing director; and the rest of the team at HarperTeen, EpicReads, and HarperCollins, for all your hard work getting this book into readers’ hands. I’m so thrilled All Your Twisted Secrets found such a supportive home.
To literary agent extraordinaire, Jim McCarthy, thank you for also making my dreams come true, and for so fiercely loving this story. You are an absolute joy to work with. (And I continue to be amazed by your lightning-fast responses. Seriously, you’re the best.) Thanks also to my foreign rights agent, Lauren Abramo, the team at Dystel, Goderich & Bourret, and all the subrights agents advocating for this story overseas.
To illustrator Evgeni Koroliov and the designers at HarperCollins, Corina Lupp and Alison Klapthor, thank you for designing such an incredibly stunning cover. I’ve spent way too much time staring at it!
To my film agency, the Gotham Group, and film agent Shari Smiley, thank you for championing this project in Hollywood. Thanks also to AwesomenessTV for optioning this project, and to Melanie Krauss and Brin Lukens for loving this story. I can’t wait to see what the future holds.
To my author BFFs—Shana Silver, Mike Chen, Hannah Reynolds, and Dan Koboldt—your friendship means the world to me. Thanks for letting me vent and for generally keeping me sane on a daily basis over the years.
To all my CPs and beta readers—Shana Silver (my brainstorming buddy who confirmed my idea for an ending would be a “delicious twist”), Sonia Hartl (my first reader, whose brilliant feedback made me rewrite every flashback chapter), Hannah Reynolds, Mary Elizabeth Summer, Brianna Duff, Rebecca Phillips, Dannie Morin, Annie Stone, Kimberly Moy, Erica Boyce—and my mother-in-law, Linda Urban—thank you so much for your input and words of encouragement. Thanks also to Kate Brauning, Kaitlyn Johnson, and Laurie Dennison for your help with the pitch.
To everyone who blurbed this book—R.L. Stine, Lisa Unger, J.T. Ellison, Mike Chen, Kimberly McCreight, Kaira Rouda, Wendy Heard, Eileen Cook, Kim Culbertson, and Rachel Strolle—thank you so much for your time, generosity, and kind words. I’ve so admired your work over the years, and it’s surreal that you even know who I am, let alone read my words and liked them. Having your support is truly an honor.
I’m so grateful to my friends, old and new—Chris, Alyssa, Ranjini, Sarah, Hartley, Carolyn, Kenna, Ed, Melanie, Danielle, Jennifer, Merida, Lauren, Wendy, Karen, Alexa, and so many more—you know who you are—my coworkers at BookBub, and author groups the Clubhouse, Submission Swamp, and Not-Secretly Agented, plus the fellow debuts I’ve bonded with, thank you so much for your friendship and encouragement. I’m thrilled to have you all in my life.
To the early readers, book bloggers, librarians, and booksellers—and to my street team’s earliest members—I’m so grateful for your support and enthusiasm for this story.
To my favorite film score composers Howard Shore, John Williams, Hans Zimmer, Ramin Djawadi, James Newton Howard—as well as Lin-Manuel Miranda—thank you for bringing hours and hours of joy into my life, and for inspiring Amber’s dreams.
To J.K. Rowling, thank you for Harry Potter, and for providing an escape into such a magical world. Growing up with Harry got me through some rough times, and I will always appreciate that.
To all my family and in-laws, thanks for always cheering me on and being so excited to read my stories! Grandma Gloria, you’re going to love this next part. (And I love you.)
To my cat, Kitty, thank you for being the perfect little writing buddy. Yep. Just thanked my cat. Don’t judge; she’s the best, and she was the inspiration for Amber’s cat, Mittens.
To my parents, Mark and Lorri, thank you for always believing in me, for supporting my dreams, for reading everything I write, and for introducing me to Harry Potter (in the most hilarious way). I love you. Sorry I started dating before I was 47.
To my husband, Bryan, thank you for literally everything. Words cannot express how grateful I am for your endless encouragement, love, patience, and support every step of the way. I couldn’t have gotten here without you, and I’m so happy we’re on this adventure together. I love you so, so much.
Sometimes I think back to my time as a teenager, when I felt ostracized and alone. And now I look at this list of names—these people who’ve loved and supported me over the years—and my heart is so full. To readers out there in middle school or high school who feel bullied, isolated, or manipulated, please know that you are not alone. One day you will find your people, and it will get so much better than this.
About the Author
Photo credit Lorri Freedman
DIANA URBAN is an author of dark, twisty thrillers. When she’s not torturing fictional characters, she works in digital marketing for start-ups. She lives with her husband and cat in Boston and enjoys reading, yoga, fawning over cute animals, and looking at the beach from a safe distance. Visit her online at www.dianaurban.com.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Books by Diana Urban
All Your Twisted Secrets
Back Ad
DISCOVER
your next favorite read
MEET
new authors to love
WIN
free books
SHARE
infographics, playlists, quizzes, and more
WATCH
the latest videos
www.epicreads.com
Copyright
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
ALL YOUR TWISTED SECRETS. Copyright © 2020 by Diana Urban.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harperteen.com
Cover art © 2020 by Evgeni Koroliov based on images by Shutterstock/mentatdgt, Shutterstock/Ollyy, Shutterstock/ShotPrime Studio, Getty/Ariel Skelley, Getty/CoffeeAndMilk, Getty/Robin Skjoldborg
Cover design by Corina Lupp
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019950095
* * *
Digital Edition MARCH 2020 ISBN: 978-0-06-290823-0
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-290821-6
* * *
2021222324PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
About the Publisher
Australia
HarperCollins Publishers Australia Pty. Ltd.
Level 13, 201 Elizabeth Street
Sydney, NSW 2000, Australia
www.harpercollins.com.au
Canada
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
Bay Adelaide Centre, East Tower
22 Adelaide Street West, 41st Floor
Toronto, Ontario, M5H 4E3
www.harpercollins.ca
India
HarperCollins India
A 75, Sector 57
Noida
Uttar Pradesh 201 301
www.harpercollins.co.in
New Zealand
HarperCollins Publishers New Zealand
Unit D1, 63 Apollo Drive
