stood in the doorway with Sabine just behind me. Everyone looked over at us. Headmaster
 
 Cromwell with his pinched expression. Ivy, looking waxy and pale, clutching the cell phone through
 
 which her father was barking orders. Detective Hauer, holding the X'd-out photo of Cheyenne,
 
 Noelle, Ariana, and Ivy in his gloved hand. Even the lawyer lady looked me up and down.
 
 "Miss Brennan, Miss DuLac. This is not a theater matinee," Headmaster Cromwell said bitterly,
 
 crossing his arms over his chest. " Kindly wait inside."
 
 "Fine. I just want to say one thing to Ivy," I told him. Then I looked her in the eye. Looked right at
 
 the girl who had spent the last two months doing everything she could think of to ruin my life, and
 
 slowly smiled. "I hope you get everything that's coming to you," I said firmly.
 
 Her jaw dropped slightly, and her eyes filled with confusion and ire. But I didn't care. I just
 
 slammed my door right in her face.
 
 "Wow. That was cold," Sabine said.
 
 "She deserves it," I told Sabine, my tone grim. "For everything she's done to me, to Cheyenne...
 
 she deserves much worse."
 
 189
 
 SO READY
 
 That night I hummed to myself as I put the final touches on my new-and-improved gift for Josh. I
 
 hadn't felt so at peace in my room since moving into Pemberly. In fact, I had lived a long while in
 
 Billings without feeling this calm and secure. But now, the police finally had my stalker in custody.
 
 For the first time in weeks, I was certain that nothing bad could happen. For the first time in weeks
 
 I felt truly free.I was washing my hands of this mess. Ivy was now officially the problem of the
 
 Easton Police Department.
 
 I slipped Josh's gift into the small red box I had purchased at the stationery store that afternoon,
 
 then affixed the glossy white bow to the top. Satisfied that I had done the best I could, I turned
 
 and checked myself out in the mirror on the back of my door. I smiled at my reflection. My long
 
 brown hair was pinned up on one side, while the other fell in sultry waves over my shoulder. I
 
 wore black mascara and dark red lip gloss I had picked up on that fateful fund-raiser
 
 190
 
 weekend in New York. Sparkling in my earlobes were the diamond earrings Walt Whittaker had
 
 given me last year. The effect was totally simple and totally glam. But the best part was the dress. I