Page 28 of The Sleeping Girls

And he believed it.

He cut the engine, breath tight in his chest as he climbed out and walked up to the door. The shutters were sagging, paintpeeling, the once white house a dirty yellowish color. He tried the door. Unlocked. Judging from the state of disrepair, it had been abandoned for years. Not that it looked much better when they’d lived here.

Evil whispered around him as he entered, shadows flickering as if Anna Marie’s ghost had been awakened. For a second, he heard the tinkle of her laughter as she danced with the calico cat named Prissy that she’d dressed in baby doll clothes when she was little.

Heard the sound of his brother tossing the baseball back and forth in his glove as he practiced his pitching stance.

Felt the rage in his stepfather’s pacing after his mother had deserted them.

Sweat beaded on his neck, his boots making the floors squeak as he walked past the dingy kitchen. His whole body tensed, bracing for an avalanche of memories as he made his way down the hall to his sister’s bedroom.

The ancient iron bed still sat in the same spot, faded gingham curtains flapping from the breeze coming through the broken window. Rain slashed through the opening, soaking the floor in a puddle. A streak of lightning zigzagged through the room, illuminating the bed frame.

The mattress was ratty now as if animals had chewed it.

A clap of thunder bolted above the trees and startled him back to that night. He saw himself leaning over his sister, hands on the pillow.

He closed his eyes, struggling to recall walking into the room. If he’d been angry at her for some reason. If she’d heard him and awakened and looked at him and begged for her life.

But a black curtain fell over his mind, plunging him into an empty cauldron of nothingness.

TWENTY-EIGHT

GEORGIAN MANOR

From the back of the deputy’s car, Bianca Copenhagen fidgeted. And she was not a fidgeter.

She shoved her hands beneath her legs to keep them still. Showing her jitters would make her look guilty of something.

The deputy hadn’t mentioned the pictures when he’d shown up at their house. Just that the police were talking to all of Kelsey’s classmates and teachers.

She would play it cool. Be charming. All the girls at school thought she was theitgirl.

She’d been growing a following as a teen influencer with her trendy clothes and makeup tips. Already, one of her posts showcasing her closet and wardrobe was going viral. Soon, designers and brand name companies would start sending her free gifts, clothing, jewelry, makeup and other products to demonstrate to her followers. She might even end up on a talk show!

She was creative, too. The meme she’d posted was particularly clever. If the losers didn’t know she had power over them, they would now.

Nerdy band freaks. She’d bet her Michael Kors bag that underneath all thatwe don’t care what anyone thinksattitude,those geeks envied her just like the other girls at school. She imagined them playing with makeup to cover the freckles and pale skin, trying to find the same shade of lip gloss Bianca used and struggling to tame their hair into a sleek glossy mane like her own. She almost felt sorry for them.Almost.

Kelsey was a different story. She could have fit in with Bianca’s crowd, only Kelsey turned up her nose at Bianca from day one. She thought she was better than everyone with her righteous Virgin Pact. Who did that anymore? All the boys expected a hand or blow job and it was hard to get a date if you were a prude. Besides HJs and BJs weren’t really sex.

Served that snotty goody-two-shoes right that the football team made bets to see who could get in her pants. The challenge was half the fun for them.

Maybe that was the reason Kelsey made the pact. She was more devious than anyone thought andwantedto challenge the guys to make herself more popular.

The boys couldn’t resist. They all thought with their dicks.

Although, Bianca had the monopoly on them. Half of the football and baseball team were wrapped around her little finger. She was working on the soccer team next. Already, she’d been asked to Homecoming three times but she’d been holding out for Mitch—only he’d asked that bitch Kelsey.

Curse words rolled through her mind.

In the front seat, her mother pulled her compact and prettied up her lipstick. Her face and body were a shrine, makeup perfect, clothing all designer. She especially enjoyed showing off the double-C-cup body Bianca’s father had paid for before the divorce. Her house—Bianca called it the glass house because she’d grown up being told not to touch anything or it would break—was as perfect and fancy as her mother. Nothing out of place. Glass and china everywhere. Polished marble floors. A two-story chandelier with a footlong waterfall of crystals.

How could Kelsey think she was better than that?

Ignoring the deputy who’d remained silent, her mother tucked her compact back into her Coach bag and gave a dramatic sigh. “I hope this doesn’t take long, Bianca. I’m missing my spa appointment.”

Bianca shrugged. “No idea, Mom.” Although she had an inkling of a clue. She knew Kelsey was missing. Everyone did.

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