Each day, Calla and her fragile heart are that little bit closer to death... but before she goes she'll prove to the world the boy she loves is no murderer.
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With a life steeped in wealth and privilege, Calla Pierce should be protected from t...
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One Year Earlier...
The twins are sitting on the rug, playing with their newest handheld console at Mari's feet. I'm curled on the settee beside her, a book abandoned in my lap. We're watching Alice pace in front of the fireplace, the hissing flames bathing her hair in gold. Upstairs, I can hear Mum and Dad bickering as they pack.
"Can we hurry this up? Whatever this is..." Mari shoots me a questioning glance and I shrug. Alice had dragged us all into the small sitting room after Mum and Dad had breathlessly announced they were going away for the weekend. They'd never been away alone before and had been bickering about the possibility for weeks. The last time I'd known them to go anywhere for more than a few hours without us was before I got sick. But three months ago, my skin had been sliced open, and a tiny matchbox-sized device slipped next to my collarbone, ready to shock my heart back into life whenever I needed it. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't afraid. And my parents felt secure enough to leave me and the rest of my sisters for a few days.
Alice's face is hard with purpose. She stops dead and looks between the four of us.
"So Mum and Dad are leaving first thing in the morning..." she states dramatically. Mari rolls her eyes at me, and I giggle. Alice glares at us both. The twins continue on with their game, ignoring her completely. "And..." she moves closer, her voice dropping. She glances upwards like Mum and Dad might hear her conspiratorial whispers through the ceiling. "I'm going to throw a party."
Mari groans, leaning her head back into the back of the settee. Me, a shiver of excitement passes through me. I'd never been to a party. Unless you counted the occasional gathering on a hospital ward with other sick kids and vanilla ice cream. Alice was talking about a proper party—one with drink, music, and boys. Like the ones Alice sneaks off to, pretending to go to a friend's house, though everyone, including our parents I was sure, knew the truth. Mum and Dad had never let her throw one, no matter how much she'd pleaded.
And Damian would be there. The thought left me breathless with a kind of excitement that bubbled under my skin. Even though he was in my year at school, he was so popular he went to the parties of Alice's year too. I feel feather-light flutters in my stomach at the thought of being that close to him. My jaw is already stiff from smiling too hard.
"This might be my only chance. Who knows if they're going to go away again before I finish school? And it's Halloween, it's never going to get better than this." I glance at Mari, whose arms are folded across her chest, her lips pursed impatiently. I can't help but feel like we're being managed—a problem to cross off her list before the fun can begin.
"Look, I get it. But I'm pretty sure you'll never see daylight again if Dad finds out you've thrown a party. And besides... they need this break, Alice." Mari, the eternal voice of reason, whispers firmly. But not going as far as saying the words we're all thinking—that Mum and Dad are always one more row away from splintering apart.
