Page 6 of The Glittering Edge

“He was giving me a hard time, as usual,” Penny says, taking another swig.

“Then why didn’t you tell him to fuck off?” Naomi says, grabbing the flask. “You don’t have to be so nice to everyone all the time.”

Penny is about to reply that she kind ofdidtell him to fuck off—but something in the distance catches her eye. Behind Penny’s house are trees and a fence, weeds and wildflowers. It’s so overgrown that you can’t see their neighbor’s house a few yards away. But outside the fence, before the trees really take over, there’s a shadow.

It could be a trick of the light. The moon might be shining at a perfect angle through the branches above. Except the shadow moves in a way that is distinctlynotlike tree branches in the wind. It almost looks—

Human.

“Do you see someone?” Penny whispers, trying not to panic.

“Huh? Where?”

“Shh,” Penny says, and she points. “Right there, by the broken fence post.”

“I see nature.”

Penny is about to argue, but when she looks back at the fence, there’s nothing there.

“You’re drunk and sleepy, Penz. And probably on edge, after Alonso and Corey went gladiator.” Naomi frowns. “You’re really not going to tell me what Alonso said?”

Penny watches the woods for a long moment before she lies back on the roof. “He asked how my summer was going.”

“He did? That’s weird.”

Alonso has always been weird, but he’s predictable, too. Except for tonight. Tonight, he was almost decent to her for a second, but that’s scarier than all the stories Penny knows about him. It makes her feel like she’s missing something.

As she stares up at the moon, Penny decides she’ll never look for Alonso’s message in her yearbook. Because even though some dark part of her is fascinated by what she saw in the woods all those years ago, she’s sure of one thing: Alonso De Luca is a mystery she never wants to solve.

Corey

WHEN THE POLICE OFFICER ESCORTS COREY AND ALONSO OUT OF THEwoods, their families are already waiting.

The Barrions are arranged on the porch of Meredith House, which has been their family home for over seventy-five years. Corey’s dad, James, stands at the front of the group, with Aunt Helen close behind. Leaning against the house is Aunt Helen’s son, Julian. Even from a distance, there’s a visible smile playing at his lips. Their live-in bodyguard, Warren, hovers on the lawn, keeping his eyes on Alonso. And Sofía Barrion Hirsch, Corey’s cousin once removed, is huddled with her ten-year-old daughter, Camila. Only Corey’s grandfather is missing, probably because he avoids the De Lucas at all costs.

There’s blood crusted at the edge of Corey’s mouth, and his head is pounding from the two punches Alonso landed. But Corey isn’t worried about how his family will react to the police being there, even if he is the only half-Black kid in a mostly white family. When it comes to the De Lucas, the Barrions’ hatred runs deep. They’ll probably throw Corey a celebratory dinner.

Across the street from Meredith House, Alonso’s mom stands at the end of her driveway, her white-blond hair piled into a messy bun on top of her head. Despite her six-foot height, Vera De Luca’s black lace cardigan is long enough to brush the dirt of their driveway. Behind her are her sisters: Donna De Luca is puffing on a cigarette, while Emilia De Luca shakes with silent sobs.

Corey can’t even look at them.

His dad comes to meet them in the street. “What happened here?”

Officer Erickson glances at Alonso’s mom, but she hasn’t moved. She’s watching from yards away, her expression impassive.

“Someone called us to report a violent altercation in the woods,” Officer Erickson says. “The kid didn’t give any names, probably because everyone was drinking underage at your son’s party.”

“Not me,” Alonso says. “I don’t have to be drunk to want to punch a Barrion in the—ouch, thathurts.”

“It’s not the time, De Luca,” Erickson says, not loosening his grip.

A smoky voice calls, “Is my son under arrest?”

It’s Alonso’s mom. She hasn’t moved from the driveway, but now she’s glaring at Alonso.

Officer Erickson shifts uneasily. “No, he’s not, but—”

Vera cuts him off. “Then I’d like you to take your hands off of him.”

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