Mag-log inI wiped the tears of laughter from my eyes. “Derek’s been driving himself crazy, wondering who you are,” I told Victor. “He’s sooo jealous.” Claire rolled her eyes. “He followed us to the prison the last time we went to see Adrian.” I started laughing again. “I didn’t know he’d gone that far.” “So that’s who that was,” Victor said. “What I want to know is how he knew we were going. Does he have people on you or something?” He looked at Claire.She shrugged. “They’d have to be really good. I haven’t seen anybody, and I pay attention nowadays. Plus I’m pretty sure Ethan would spot them right off.”“Oh, it’s simpler than that,” I said. “He put a backdoor in your security system.”“He did what?!” Claire snarled. I looked at her respectfully. I didn’t know if she realized it, but she’d moved into a fight-ready stance. Weight balanced, knees slightly bent, hands at waist level. Her eyes blazed with fury. She looked completely different from the sweet little mouse Derek had married al
I opened my front door to the rain splattering down on Bernard’s head. He was standing there, water dripping down his face, holding a bunch of sunflowers in his hand. There was something indefinably defeated about him. The Bernard I knew would be carrying an umbrella, or at least singing in the rain. Now he was standing there flatfooted, waiting for me to ask him in.It didn’t seem to make a difference to him. Rain or sun would be met with the same apathetic blankness.“Bernard, come in! Jeez, it’s good to see you.” I hugged him. “Oh God, you’re soaked! Let me get you a towel. It’s turning cold, too.” He was dripping on the floor. Something else Bernard usually cared about. My heart twisted, and I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the kitchen. “Here, sit down,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”I dashed off and came back with a big fluffy towel and one of Derek’s shirts I’d found in my stuff when I moved. Bernard was still standing there. Still holding the flowers. What was wrong
“Hey, Ethan! How you doin’?” She was dressed in head-to-toe black, like if Wednesday Addams was a ninja. If you said that to her she’d think of it as a compliment. She’d always thought of Wednesday Addams as a role model and hero. I was just happy she was over trying to mix poisons from stuff in her fridge. I don’t think they’d kill anyone, but they sure tasted nasty. Yes, she asked me to taste them.Yes, I agreed.“Hi Isabella,” I said. I was working on the costume for the Ghost of Christmas Past, making the horn for the cornucopia. A cornucopia is a horn with food pouring out of it. I don’t know why food would be pouring out of a goat’s horn, but it’s traditional. “What do you think?” I held out the paper-mache horn. I was going to paint it gold when it was finished. Cornucopias are supposed to look fancy and rich. “Lemme see.” I handed it over and she gave it a couple of experimental swings. “It’s not a weapon,” I said. “It’s supposed to symbolize, like, abundance and stuff
I poured out wine for Laura and Ryan and tried to smile. “A toast!” I said. “To love’s young dream!” I downed my entire glass in one convulsive swallow.“Oh, shut up,” Laura said. “What’s wrong with you, anyway? Claire reject you again?” “What? No!” I said. “At least, not more than usual. We go to classes at the gun range together twice a week. Although…” Maybe Laura would know. She and Claire were friends, after all.“She’s been hanging out with this guy,” I said. “Big muscles, dark hair, hazel eyes. Do you know who he is? Like, what’s up between the two of them?”“No, but he sounds hot,” Laura said. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask Bernard to find out. Isn’t that what you normally do? Or you could always ask Claire herself, of course.” She raised an eyebrow and looked at me quizzically. Showoff. “I did ask Bernard!” I said. “And then he…”“Sorry, I didn’t catch that?” “He said no! And then he told me he had his own problems and walked out!” My voice cracked with indignation. Lau
At the sound of the tone, please leave your message…“Oh c’mon, Bernard. Pick up the phone! You’re being childish!” I cut the call impatiently. I was starting to sympathize with Savannah’s habit of throwing her phone across the room. I’d seen old movies where they had those big landline phones they could slam when they hung up. I wished I had one of those. Why was Bernard acting like this? He was the chillest guy I knew. Always joking and ready to hang out. He’d been like that when I’d first met him in college, too. We’d belonged to the same fraternity, popularly known around campus as The Golden Bros. He kept the pool on whatever we were betting on. People trusted him, and he could usually diffuse any fights that started over who won. Did it have something to do with Walker and Sons? They didn’t seem different from any of the dozens of other companies we’d set our sights on. But maybe Bernard really wanted to raid them for some reason. Even if he did, it wasn’t like him to lose
Over the next few days we auditioned dozens of kids. We tried to find a place for anybody who wanted one. If they couldn’t sing or act they could still be street urchins or workers in the background of Scrooge’s factory. Today we were taking applications for the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. I looked around and spotted Emma and Ethan in the audience, waiting for Emma’s turn. I waved at them and they waved back, Emma smiling cheerfully. The first auditionee was one of the high school students and very fashionably goth. Today she’d gone for the corpse bride look—black lace gown, long black hair, dead white makeup, heavy black eyeliner. She swept to her mark and gracefully extended a slender arm, pointing at Matthew. Who made a note on his tablet. “Thanks, Elfreda, we’ll get back to you,” he said with a smile. She smiled back, completely ruining her spooky goth vibe.The next candidate was a tall, skinny middle-schooler carrying a scythe with a silver-painted cardboard blade. The o
I leaned against the wall, legs trembling with nervous reaction. Tonight was supposed to be my triumph. And indeed things were going well. Unfortunately, that had upset both my sister and my ex-husband, and they’d felt the need to make their feelings my problem. Now I was stressed out and exhausted
Mrs. Sutton was packing up the last of the vanity, neatly placing Savannah’s expensive skincare serums in a box. She kept her face neutral and professional, but my housekeeper had never liked Savannah. I could see the satisfaction in the way she wrapped the tape around the boxes, sharp and final.
I walked back into the ballroom, ignoring the music and the high society donors in their best formal wear. I was looking for a waiter. Spotting one across the room and heading over, I nabbed a glass of champagne and gulped it down. The next glass received the same treatment. Then I picked up a glas
When I walked back into the house, Savannah came to meet me with a determined smile on her face. “Savannah,” I said. “Who’s Victor?” I put my hands in my pockets and looked casually around the kitchen. “I happened to overhear your phone call as I was walking past.”Her smile vanished and a hunted







