This cannot be happening. 

The ghost of Victoria Caldwell seems to not want to leave me alone. I've found her body and found the journal that she kept before her death. The police should literally put me on the payroll at this point. I've done more in less than a week than they've done in months. 

My hands begin to shake as I feel like I'm walking on sacred ground. It never dawned on me that pieces of Victoria could be scattered around the room. My heart thumps against my chest as I place the journal on the bed. 

What do you do, Elena?

I should probably go to the police. I should give them this journal and all the secrets it contains. They'll know what to do with it. Surely they could use this to gain some insight into this apparently senseless murder. 

Something dawns on me as her words swim through my head. 

One thing that is always a hot commodity are secrets of those around you. I make it my business to know everyone's business for that exact reason. 

My brain starts to twist. What if the person who killed Victoria did it because she had something on them? Something that they didn't want anyone to know? Something that they would kill over. 

Something they would kill over. 

Surely this would be in the journal, right? 

Hands shaking and sweating, I reach down to the bed and carefully flick open the cover. The introduction page of her journal. Her perfectly girly and cursive handwriting swirled across the page in an elegant manner. My throat dries instantly as I nervously reach out my hand and switch to the next page.

I cannot believe Bryan did that!

A loud knock sounds on the door and my heart jumps out of my chest as I slam the journal back into my drawer. "Elena! Get your ass out here! We are trying to leave and mourn our friend!"

Stassi bangs on the door again and I try to slow my breathing. I run over to the door and open it to see her glaring at me with her hands on her hips. "I just have to grab my toothbrush," I tell her as I run toward the bathroom. 

"You're literally the slowest person in the universe!" she squeals as she flops down on Gala's bed in frustration. "Can't you see we are having a depressing moment in our friend group and need the support of fast food and alcohol to make us feel better?!"

I exit the bathroom and quickly grab my phone charger and backpack from next to my bed and throw my overnight items into it. Stassi looks at me with an eye roll and leaves the room without another word. I follow quickly behind her and run down the stairs following her to the lobby where Anne-Marie, Gala, and Pria are waiting at the front door. 

"Elena were you waiting for Christmas?" asks Anne-Marie. 

I smile apologetically as we turn and walk into the parking lot toward Anne-Marie's Range Rover.

The sky is a deep shade of grey today. It would have been a day where I curl up under a blanket and watch Discovery+ with a warm cup of coffee back home. Here, it feels like even the sky is saddened upon hearing Victoria Caldwell had died. It matched the somber feeling of walking with this group today. Even Stassi seems to be in a darker mood than normal as we pile into the back of the car. 

Grief is the most sobering thing a person can go through. It can rip apart your world and strip you bare of the foundations of who you are and what you're made of. Someone dying so young is especially sobering because it makes us see ourselves for who we are. 

Fragile. 

A split second of a person's life can be the difference between life and death. Victoria's split-second ended poorly, and the only reason we are still here driving in this car is because our split-second hasn't come. 

What I read in the journal leaves me wondering what caused Victoria's moment. Who did she push to the edge that left her with a gash on the side of her head?

 Rain begins to fall from the sky as we drive down the long winding roads that lead from Riveroak to Anne-Marie's house. The droplets fall in sporadically on the top of the car crashing into the metal ceiling. A crash of thunder roars through the sky and I feel Gala jump in surprise next to me. 

We ride in the car in silence. The only sound is the sheets of rainwater hitting the metal ceiling of the car. 

Anne-Marie finally turns into a gated community that leaves my jaw on the floor. Houses that could fit three of my homes back in Kilgore lined the streets we drove through. Fancy cars Lamborghinis, Ferraris, and old-school automobiles are all over the driveways. 

"Holy shit," I mutter as she passes each house. My eyes wander from home to home as I try to guess which one will be Anne-Marie's. 

"It's not just you," Gala whispers in my ear. "This neighborhood is overwhelming for everyone. Anne-Marie isn't just rich. She's stupid rich. Her dad has enough money to pay someone to go away. I've seen him do it." 

"It's called fuck you money, Gala," Anne-Marie says from the front seat. "And I wouldn't let my father hear you talking about that moment. He doesn't like his bad looks to be brought up. Especially to newcomers." 

Her eyes narrow on me and I'm left wondering if Anne-Marie wanted me to come to this in the first place. I suddenly feel uncomfortable as we pull up to a house that is the grandest building I've ever seen. 

Her house has a gate of its own with a security guard on standby to open the door if anyone needs to get in. Anne-Marie waves as she drives up to the gate and they let her in without question. When we get onto the property the first thing I see is a large statue of Anne-Marie's family cut out in white marble. It stands on top of a large fountain directly in the middle of her front yard. 

A long wrap-around driveway leads up to the humongous colonial house. It's big white pillars and large bay windows look beautiful even in the rain. This is the nicest place I've ever seen in my life. A beautiful display of rose beds lines the perimeter of the house and a old woman with a maid outfit on stands in the large wooden doorway.

Anne-Marie parks her car in front of my house and jumps out. A slew of workers run to her attention as she begins to immediately bark orders at everyone. "Everyone please grab my friend's bags and bring them to the sleepover room. Imelda, I would love some hot chocolate and I think my friends would too. Jeralt, please have my car taken to the garage and refilled with gas before we leave back to Riveroak in the morning." 

They silently ran around like little worker ants getting the tasks that they were assigned done. Anne-Marie beckons for us to follow her and we make our way into a large grand entryway. Everything in her house seems to sparkle. From the crystal and gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling. To the wooden railed staircase with golden plates running through the middle of it. Her home looked like it should be for a royal family with the sparking tile, the high ceilings that make you feel so small, and the expensive paintings that lined the wall. 

She led us down a hallway that was littered with family pictures. Photos of their family on vacation in Hawaii, Athens, Malta, and the Maldives. Places that I would never even dream about being able to go. She stops in the middle of the hallway in front of a pair of large white French doors. 

"Welcome to the Sleepover room, Elena," she says as the doors swing open. 

Giant mattresses are spread out across the room. It's basically one giant bed each of the girls walks over to one of the mattresses and sits down. There's a station to do your nails with a manicurist and a pedicurist on standby. There's a large wall that just has one television. It covers the whole freaking wall. 

Anne-Marie wasn't kidding when she said her dad had fuck you money. 

"This is amazing," I say unsure of if amazing is the appropriate word. Out of this world, extravagant, fit for a queen also come to mind, but amazing was easier to say in my awestruck state. 

"She loved coming here," whispers Anne-Marie sadly as she covers her face in her hand. A loud dramatic sigh that seemed more fake than real echoes from her. Stassi and Pria crowd around her, but I watch as Gala stands back and looks at me wearily. "It's just not fair," she yells. "She should be here right now!" 

A beautiful woman in a business suit runs into the room. Her hair is long and straight, but her face looks like she copied her own and placed it on Anne-Marie's. She runs straight to Anne-Marie and wraps her arms around her. Anne-Marie sinks into the woman's arms and sobs as the woman comforts her.

"I know, baby," whispers the woman. "It isn't fair." 

"She should be here to go to the Snow Queen Ball this year Mom. It's the first year we are allowed to go. She was so excited to get to go without having to sneak in." 

Her voice cracked and her mother pulls away from her and wipes her eyes. "Baby, you're strong. You will get through this." She looks around the room and nods at everyone in here. "All of you will." 

"Thank you," whispers Gala. 

The woman nods and stands up. "I have a work meeting I have to get on Zoom for, but if you need anything I'm a text away." 

"Ok," Anne-Marie says sadly. "I'll keep you updated, Mom."

The woman leaves the room and Anne-Marie pulls her phone out of her bag and goes to her call log. "Madison?" she asks sweetly into the phone. "Did your cousin end up reaching out to you again about tonight?" she pauses and then makes an exciting noise and hangs up. 

She looks at us ecstatically as she clears her throat and sits up a little taller on the mattress. "Tonight I hired a median to help us contact our dead friend. We are going to find out who killed her."