Prologue
In a world where Prada, Gucci, and Chanel reign, how can you expect to be different or abstract?
How can you be an individual in a town that shuns differences?
For four girls in Pennsylvania, however, being different is almost too easy.
Chapter 1
Sunlight streamed through Sophia Maher’s window. She squinted against it, struggling to glance at the photograph on her desk. Held in a square, purple frame was a picture of Sophia with her three best friends – Alexis DuLac, Mackenzie Peters and Peyton Hale.
Sophia held back tears as she studied the girls’ smiling faces. She still wonders why they even thought about smiling because it was the first photo taken of them after their other best friend, Isabelle Evans went missing.
Swallowing hard, Sophia tore her gaze from the picture. She had to stop thinking about Isabelle’s disappearance, the police were working as hard as they could to try and find her. Sophia didn’t have anything to worry about, because she knew Isabelle’s case was in the hands of the authorities.
Sophia slung her black Prada tote over her shoulder and headed downstairs. Seconds after stepping into the grey-tiled kitchen, she could feel something was wrong. The usual scent of coffee wasn’t lingering in the air, and her mother hadn’t left for work yet.
“Hi Mom,” Sophia greeted her.
“Good morning, Sophia,” Katherine Maher replied, pressing the heels of her hands into the granite countertop.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything’s fine. I was watching the news again and couldn’t bear seeing Isabelle’s picture, you and her were so close. It just… freaked me out a bit. I’ll be going in a minute.” Katherine explained, concern flashing in her eyes.
“Okay. Bye, Mom.” Sophia called as her mother hurried out of the kitchen.
Sophia grabbed a blueberry muffin from the counter and whirled out the door. She sank into her Corvette’s leather interior, inhaling its scent. Worry clawed through her stomach.
Shaking her head, she slammed the car into DRIVE and stomped on the gas pedal.
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Sophia stepped out of her car and locked it. She inhaled deeply before walking up the stone walkway to the school. She glanced at the red-bricked building as she strode into the school.
She steeled herself as she entered the building. People stared, they whispered and gossiped, they pointed at her – obviously in awe because of Isabelle. She got sick of it sometimes, Isabelle went missing two months ago, wasn’t it time to get over it already?
Oblivious to the chattering, she stepped up to her locker and quickly unlocked it.
A folded strip of pink paper was wedged between her Chemistry and History books. Curious, Sophia reached for it. It was thick and stiff, like it was written on expensive paper.
She unfolded it and read it. Her mouth dropped.
Hey Sophia,
Miss me? Trying to forget about me? Well, I’m not too far behind. Be a good girl now, because if your not – you’ll pay. Or, if you say, want the world to know about your skin-opening habit…
I can help you out with that.
- I
Color flooded Sophia’s cheeks. She swallowed hard and pushed the paper back into her locker.
Was Isabelle here? Why won’t she come home?
Sophia shook her head and trudged into her English classroom, wondering if any of her friends have gotten creepy messages.
She shuffled down one of the desk-lined aisles to her desk. She sank down in it and threw her bag to the floor.
“Hey… What’s the matter, Sophia?” Peyton Hale asked.
Sophia looked up. Peyton was sitting across from her, twirling her corn-yellow hair.
“Uh, listen, I’ll tell you about it later. Meet me in the cafeteria during lunch.”
“Okay… Are you okay?” Peyton questioned.
“Yes… no… I don’t know.” Sophia replied, dazed.
Before Peyton could speak, their English teacher walked in the room. The class’ attention focused on the teacher.
“Take out your novels and copy these notes from the board.” The teacher, Mrs. Genevieve ordered, turning to the white board.
Shuffling and mumbling circled the room. Patricia Genevieve was the strictest teacher in the school. She squawked at anyone who was late and gave detentions for every little thing.
Mrs. Genevieve began writing swirling cursive across the board. Peyton craned her neck to see over the greasy-haired boy in front of her.
Suddenly, her cell phone vibrated. She snuck it out of her bag and opened it. ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE the screen flashed.
Peyton,
How’s English going? It’s boring, isn’t it? If you want more excitement, just say the word.
I’ll help you out, by revealing your secret to the entire class.
Being anorexic is kind of annoying, right? Oh well, I know you’ll find a way to keep it hidden… unless my tongue slips.
And you know that I’m not very good at keeping secrets…
Cheers!
- I
Peyton blushed and slid her phone into her pocket. The only person she’d told was Isabelle… and she was missing
.
Confusion swam through her as she turned her attention back to English class.
