Two Can Keep a Secret

“I became Declan Kelly’s brother before I got a chance to be anything else, and sometimes it feels like that’s all I’ll ever be.” 

Malcolm lives in Declan’s shadow, both in the town and in his own self-concept. Declan’s reputation makes Malcolm into an outcast, but the real struggle for Malcolm will be learning to understand and connect with his brother as he faces his own time in the spotlight.

“He and Sadie are so similar sometimes, so blissfully optimistic, that it’s impossible to say what you really think around them. When I used to try, Sadie would sigh and say, Don’t be such an Eeyore, Ellery. Once—only once—she’d added under her breath, You’re just like Sarah. Then pretended not to hear me when I asked her to repeat what she’d said.” 

Central to Ellery’s character is her struggle with her mother, and here, the reader is shown that it’s rooted in Ellery’s similarity to her missing aunt. Sadie’s free-spirit attitude is a defense mechanism against the tragedy she’s faced, and her seeing so much of Sarah in Ellery is a sore point for them both.

“Daisy was my first crush; the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen in real life. I could never figure out what Declan saw in Lacey when Daisy was right there. Meanwhile, Mia was in love with both Lacey and Declan. We were a couple of awkward preteens trailing around after our golden siblings and their friends, lapping up whatever scraps of attention they’d throw our way. And then it all imploded.” 

This quote exemplifies Malcolm’s position to his brother—that of an admirer living in Declan’s shadow—and foreshadows Declan and Daisy’s relationship. Malcolm and Mia both need to reconnect with their siblings for their character arcs to be complete, and by the novel’s end, the two have reconciled with their siblings and begun to reestablish the dynamic that they lost.

“‘Modus operandi,’ I say, warming to the topic. It’s one where I’m perfectly confident. ‘You know, the method somebody uses to commit a crime? Lacey was strangled. That’s a very personal and violent way to kill someone, and not likely to be premeditated. But these threats are public, and they require planning. Plus they’re much less, well, direct. To me, it feels more like a copycat. Which isn’t to say that person isn’t dangerous. But maybe they’re dangerous in a different way.’” 

In this moment, Ellery is talking to the popular girls in school. Her expertise on the topic of murder does a few things: First, it identifies her as an outcast; second, it tips off Viv, who is the perpetrator of the threats, that Ellery is smart about these things; and finally, it proves to the reader that Ellery is up to the task at hand. Ellery makes many missteps in her investigation, but most of her thinking throughout the case is correct, just misdirected.

“Nice isn’t the right word. Sadie Corcoran was like this bolt of energy that swept through town and electrified everybody, even in the middle of mourning. I got the sense that she considered Echo Ridge one big stage, but I didn’t mind watching the performance. We all needed the distraction.” 

Much like Malcolm lives in the shadow of Declan, Ellery and Ezra live in the shadow of Sadie, who was known as a charming, exciting person who—in the eyes of the townspeople—was able to escape the tragedy and the town to live out her dreams in Hollywood. Most people in town don’t see the sadness underneath Sadie’s performance, nor do they think of Sadie as someone who is failing at achieving her dreams, despite her primarily playing bit parts. Only her current stint in rehab makes people aware, and even then, it’s viewed as a romantic tragedy rather than the complicated, awful situation that Ellery knows it to be.

“When Ezra and I are out running errands with Nana, people have no problem talking to us as though they’ve known us their entire lives. Everyone skirts around Sadie’s rehab, but they have plenty of other things to say; they’ll quote her Defender line, joke about how Sadie must not miss Vermont winters, or marvel at how similar my hair is to hers. But they never mention Sarah—not a memory, an anecdote, or even an acknowledgment. Every once in a while I think I see the flicker of an impulse, but they always pause or look away before changing the subject.” 

This is the flipside to the previous quote: People in Echo Ridge, consciously or not, are using Sadie’s big personality to ignore Sarah’s disappearance. Much like Sadie, the town is in denial about the pattern of trauma they’ve endured, and though Ellery is desperate for understanding, she mostly encounters changed subjects and withheld information.

“We’ve all lost our version of a princess, and none of us knows why. I’m sick of being tangled up in Echo Ridge’s secrets, and of the questions that never end […] I want to do something. For the missing girls, and the ones left behind.” 

This is the moment when Ellery’s resolve becomes clear, though at this point in the narrative, Brooke has yet to disappear, so Ellery’s focus is on the threats that Viv has fabricated. Significantly, Ellery leaves herself out of it, choosing to focus on other people’s trauma instead of her own. By the end of the novel, she’ll realize that she was left behind, just like her mother was, and that she needs healing just as much as any of the others.

“When she turns toward the street, I glimpse [Brooke’s] face just before the light changes. She doesn’t look scared or upset, or in tears like she has been for the past couple of weeks. She looks determined.”

Malcolm is seeing Brooke at the moment after she talks to Vance about picking the lock. Brooke’s determination is rooted in her desire to get out of Peter Nilsson’s clutches, and she intends to use the receipt in the recycling bin to prove that she and Peter were the ones who killed Mr. Bowman. 

“But I can’t stop thinking about what Caroline Kilduff said in Dalton’s Emporium. A princess. What a stupid thing to want to be. Sadie was one—my extroverted, attention-loving mother hit the absolute pinnacle of high school popularity—and she never, ever talks about it. I need her to talk about it.” 

Ellery needs Sadie to talk for two reasons: One is that she is sure Sarah’s disappearance is connected to the present day mystery, and the other is that she knows that the trauma Sadie experienced in high school is a big part of the gulf between them.

“Every once in a while, it feels like Malcolm and I are having some kind of sub-conversation that we don’t acknowledge. We’re talking about football and his brother, supposedly, but we’re also talking about before and after. It’s how I think about Sadie—that she was one way before the kind of loss that rips your world apart, and a different version of herself afterward. Even though I didn’t know her until Sarah was long gone, I’m sure it’s true.” 

Here, Ellery is articulating one of the central themes of the book: Trauma creates a divide in a person’s life, and everything else gets caught up in the gravity of that divide. This is part of what allows Malcolm and Ellery to grow close, but it’s also the driving force of each of their character arcs, and the “before and after” needs to be solved for them to move on.

“Minutes crawl by, until Brooke draws her knees up to her chest and lifts her eyes toward mine. They’re unfocused and ringed with dark circles. ‘Have you ever made a really bad mistake?’ she asks quietly.”

The version of Brooke that Ellery and Malcolm see here is totally different from the one they’ve known, and her question will echo in both of their minds as they try to understand the nature of her disappearance. The mistake that Brooke refers to is twofold: her relationship with Peter, and her involvement in Mr. Bowman’s death. 

“He has absolutely no idea how attractive he is, and it’s kind of a problem. He’s so used to living in his brother’s shadow that he doesn’t believe he’s the kind of guy who could’ve snagged the attention of a girl like Brooke. Anybody else can see it from a mile away.” 

In this moment, Ellery demonstrates a keen understanding of Malcolm and the way Declan’s reputation has influenced him. She’s also caught up in her own feelings for him, which she tries to push to the side for the sake of the investigation, though she can only hold out for so long.

“There’s something deeply, fundamentally satisfying about confronting a monster and escaping unscathed. Real monsters aren’t anything like that. They don’t let go.” 

Ellery is talking about the haunted house that she works at when she says this, but the false scares of the place are in contrast to Sadie’s trauma, which has had lingering, inescapable effects on her personality and her role as a mother.

“Katrin enters the kitchen gripping her phone. Her cheeks are bright red, and I brace myself for another tirade. She probably just read the same article. ‘Peter wants you guys outside,’ I say, hoping to cut off whatever lecture she has planned. She nods mechanically without speaking, looking first at Viv and then at me. Her face is weirdly immobile, like she’s wearing a Katrin mask. Her hands shake as she shoves her phone into her pocket.” 

The reader doesn’t know what Katrin has just seen until later, but she has just emerged from her father’s office after finding Brooke’s hand-painted cell phone case in his desk. She may not have put the pieces together yet, but she knows her father had something to do with Brooke going missing.

‘“I remembered something,’ Daisy says. ‘A bracelet Lacey started wearing right before she died. It was really unusual—a bangle that almost looked like antlers twisted together.’ She shrugs at Mia’s dubious expression. ‘Sounds weird, I know, but it was gorgeous. She was really coy about where she got it, too. Said it wasn’t from Declan, or her parents. When I was in the hospital in Boston, trying to figure out how my life had gotten so far off track, I started wondering who’d given it to her and whether it was somebody who, well…’ She trails off. ‘You know. I wondered.’”

The bracelet is the clue that will end up saving Ellery and Malcolm’s life, as it allows Officer Rodriguez to realize that Peter is behind the killings just in time. It’s also the thing that reconnects Daisy and Declan and gets them to reckon with their attraction and their guilt.

“‘Sadie came back to Echo Ridge in August 2001.’

‘I know. I wrote it. So?’

‘So we were born in May 2002.’

I stared at him blankly and he added, ‘Nine. Months. Later,’ enunciating each word slowly. I gaped at him, blindsided. Of all the mysteries in Echo Ridge, our paternity has been the last one on my mind.” 

Ellery has been so focused on the case in front of her that Ezra’s words here come as a total shock. Ezra is often presented as a character who is along for the ride, but he and Ellery are more alike than they know, and he’s a keen investigator in his own right.

‘“It’s weird, but for the longest time I almost couldn’t…see myself in the future,’ she says. ‘I’d think about what happened to my aunt and imagine that one of us, out of me and my brother, might not make it all the way through high school. Like only one Corcoran twin gets to move on. And Ezra’s so much more like my mom than I am, so…’” 

Ellery is talking about the lingering consequences of her family history, and her irrational belief that there’s no future for her has affected many aspects of her life, notably her lack of planning for college until her Nana agrees to help pay for it. 

“Ellery and I are silent for a few minutes, watching the robotically enhanced Defender mow down his former nemesis. That’s what made this series so popular, I think: that a regular guy who’s constantly beaten down could suddenly become special and powerful. In Hollywood, no plotline is impossible. Maybe Ellery’s spent too much time in that world.” 

Defender is the movie in which Sadie had her biggest role, and there’s a complicated relationship between the Sadie that Ellery knows and the one Malcolm thinks he knows tied up in his thoughts about this movie and its relation to real life. Malcolm thinks Ellery might be naïve to pursue justice the way she does, but he’s equally naïve, which is particularly noticeable if the reader is familiar with the movie that Defender most closely resembles, which is Robocop. In that film, the main character is stripped of his humanity and his memory when he becomes enhanced, and it’s far from a feel-good story about good winning over evil.

“My eyes lock on the framed photo of a young man in military fatigues, leaning against a helicopter and smiling into the camera. Everything about him—the dark hair and eyes, the sharp planes of his face, even the slightly lopsided grin—looks exactly like my brother. And me.” 

This is the moment when Ellery realizes that Officer Rodriguez is likely related to the twins, which explains why he has been so fumbling and seemed so nervous around the two. Ellery’s seeing this photo changes the whole arc of her narrative, as she suddenly has to reckon with a new kind of acceptance for herself and her mother.

‘“Why?’

His jaw sets in a hard line. ‘I remember the first day of school after…news like this.’

I suck in a breath and wince. I wonder if my ribs are cracked. ‘What, you knew something like this was gonna happen?’

‘It happened to me,’ he says.

‘I didn’t know that.’ I didn’t know much back then, I guess.” 

This conversation between Declan and Malcolm comes after Declan has rescued his little brother from Kyle and Theo. Malcolm being put in the same position as Declan forces them to reconcile after spending so much time emotionally distanced from each other.

“I wasn’t thinking straight. My father was gone, memories of Sarah were everywhere, and I just—I made a bad choice. Then the timing of the pregnancy fit better with the, um…other situation, and I wanted that to be true, and so…I convinced myself that it was.” 

Here, Sadie confesses to her affair with Officer Rodriguez’s father. The story she tells her children (that their father was a stuntman) is the one she wants to believe, so it’s the one she tells. Over and over in the twins’ life, the stories that are told to them inform who they are as people, and now that the truth is starting to come out, they will finally have a sense of control over their lives.

“All these weeks of wondering what the hell was happening around town, it somehow never occurred to me that the guy I trust least of anyone might be involved. I’m an idiot. And Ellery sucks at solving true crime. But none of that matters right now.” 

This is the moment when the truth is laid bare: Peter Nilsson was behind everything, with Katrin and Brooke’s coerced assistance. Malcolm realizes that he didn’t consider Peter as a possibility for two reasons. The first is that his distrust was rooted in Peter’s role as a stepfather. The second is that he didn’t consider Peter as someone who could be involved in the more recent crimes because of his age. The high school worldview that our protagonists bring to their investigation means they haven’t been considering all the possibilities.

“Katrin’s lawyer painted as sympathetic a picture of her as he could. He claimed Peter had methodically estranged Katrin from her mother for years so he could control and manipulate her, to the point where she was totally dependent on him and unable to distinguish right from wrong. A different type of victim from Lacey and Brooke—but still a victim.” 

Katrin’s complicity in her father’s crimes is still unclear at the end of the novel, but there has clearly been a complicated, covertly abusive relationship at work between them for a long time. Malcolm and Ellery saw Katrin as a culprit, but really, she’s a broken girl like so many others whom Ellery wants to give justice.