Nicole, on the other hand, had dropped out of college to pursue acting seriously, and by the age of twenty-one had achieved global fame after starring in a movie about a teenager who traveled back in time to save the planet from destruction. It had broken all box office records. Milly had seen the film and agreed with the critics that Nicole had been captivating in the role, but that wasn’t the point where she’d recognized just how talented her friend was. That moment had come a few months later, when Nicole had all but floated onto the stage to accept the most coveted award in acting wearing a custom-made gown that somehow managed to make her look both innocent and alluring. Her speech had been heartfelt and moving, and many of the people in the audience had cried.

Milly had cried too, and that was when she’d realized that her friend wasn’t just going to be big, she was going to be huge. Because the speech was all lies, and Milly knew it was lies. She was, quite possibly, one of only two people who knew it was lies, the other being Nicole’s mother, who was unlikely to be watching.

But still Nicole had made her believe every word.

Nicole had called her afterward.

“Did you hear my speech?”

“Yes, I heard your speech.”

“You know the truth. People would pay you to tell my story.”

Milly had rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You have no idea how far people will go to get information on me and tear me down.”

“You’re sounding paranoid.”

But Nicole had said the same thing a few days later when Milly had met her in her suite in a London hotel where she was staying for a premiere of her latest movie.

She’d been escorted to the room by unsmiling security guards with earpieces and overdeveloped muscles, and she’d sat stiffly on one of the white sofas in the ridiculously opulent suite, feeling out of place and desperate to find common ground with her old friend.

She remembered ten-year-old Nicole saying One day I’m going to be famous, and here she was—famous.

And fame had changed everything.

“Seriously, Milly, you can’t have my name in your phone anymore. Someone might see it. We need to agree on a different name.” Nicole had been wired, nervous, talking too quickly, sipping a glass of wine even though it was three in the afternoon. Her hair fell in dark silky waves down her back, and those famous green eyes, eyes that made you lose your power of speech as one smitten critic had put it, were huge in her pale face. In real life she seemed thinner than ever, and Milly, almost eight months pregnant by then, had felt like a baby elephant next to her.