Don't Tell a Soul
Page 26
I couldn’t understand why Lark was grinning. “Not everyone,” she said. “Sam and I did a little research while you were resting.”
She pulled up a photo on her phone and passed it to me. It took me a second to realize that it was a picture from Daniel Lane’s party. A group of girls were posing in front of the glass doors that led to the terrace. “Now watch,” Lark said, swiping to the next photo.
This time the picture had been digitally enhanced. A misshapen shadow on the other side of the door had been lightened to reveal two different people. One had the other’s limp body hanging over his shoulder. Both my face and Daniel’s were visible.
I hadn’t cried when it had happened. For months after the incident, I’d felt nothing but numb. I’d been so certain that nothing could save me and nobody cared. Now that I knew someone did care, I found tears running down my cheeks.
“Makes it pretty clear you didn’t willingly go back to the bedroom with him, doesn’t it?”
I was too overwhelmed to speak clearly. After a moment I asked, “Where did you get this?”
“The girl who took it posted it on Facebook. I made sure every person at your school got the enhanced version.” Then she grinned. “And yeah, I sent a copy to your mom, too.”
“So have you decided what you want to do with the manor?” Sam asked me.
I’d been as surprised as anyone else to discover that my uncle had willed the house to me. Now that it was May, the snow was gone, and flowers were springing up all over the lawn. I didn’t need to use my imagination anymore. Sam had worked wonders on the grounds.
“I’m going to keep it,” I said, admiring the newly open space where the topiary had stood. Sam and I had spent the afternoon chopping them down.
“That’s a bold decision,” he said, with a smile that told me he approved.
“Lark can live here until she goes off to college. You can stay here whenever you come home from school. There’s more than enough room for everyone.”
“Are Maisie and Nora going to lose their money now that they’ve told the whole world about Gavin?”
“I honestly don’t think they care,” I said. “They’re welcome to move in, too. Maisie can turn one of the bedrooms into an enormous closet, if she likes.”
“So it sounds like the manor’s going to be an inn after all. You know, a lot of people in your shoes might hold a grudge against this house.”
I shook my head. “No. I’m grateful,” I said. “I wouldn’t have all you guys if it weren’t for the manor.”
“And we’re glad you came,” Sam said. “It’s just a shame your uncle won’t have to answer for what he did to your aunt and your father.”
“It is,” I agreed. “But at least Gavin Turner’s in jail.”
“Poor Nolan,” Sam said. “He should probably consider changing his name. They say a sixth woman came forward to accuse his dad this week.”
“Good,” I said. “Nothing will change if we stay quiet. That’s what I told my mom. She called this morning and begged me not to go public with the news about James. She said she doesn’t see any need to tarnish the family reputation now that James is dead and my name has finally been cleared.”
“What did you say?” Sam asked.
I looked up at Sam and smiled. “I told her it’s my story. And I want the whole world to hear.”
This book would have been a different beast if not for my editor, Krista Marino. It was a tame little creature when she first encountered it. Krista helped me give it teeth and set it free. Thanks to Lydia Gregovic at Delacorte Press for her insightful comments, which helped guide the book to the unconventional conclusion its heroine deserves.
Thanks as always to Suzanne Gluck and Andrea Blatt at William Morris Endeavor.
And a giant hug for Georgia, my butt-kicking, rock climbing, ghost-spotting inspiration.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kirsten Miller lives and writes in New York City. She is the New York Times bestselling author of The Eternal Ones, How to Lead a Life of Crime, and Don’t Tell a Soul, as well as the acclaimed Kiki Strike books. She is also the coauthor of the Nightmares! series and the Last Reality series with Jason Segel.
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