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Celeste and I make a plan to meet out on the path in about ten minutes. I know my whereabouts won’t be secret for long, but at least Lyman can tell people I left alone. I don’t want Celeste to get into trouble.
I change into the cowgirl outfit, and when I dig my hand into the pocket of Halli’s jeans, I find a loose hair tie in there. Perfect.
I pull Halli’s long brown hair back into a ponytail, the way she was wearing it when I first met her. I thought it looked like a horse’s tail then—thick and shiny and long. It seems appropriate for the event I’m about to try to lie my way out of.
Because there’s no doubt the real Halli Markham is an accomplished horsewoman. I’ve seen footage of her riding a pony in Mongolia when she was only three or four years old. Jake said she had a favorite
