Blaire was still in touch with some of her friends from her school days in Maryland. It had been tough at first—they’d all known each other since kindergarten, and Blaire arrived on the scene in eighth grade. Her father had told her that she should be happy that she’d been accepted to such a wonderful school, that it would open up a whole new world for her. Enid, his new wife, said that she was languishing at her public school, that she would have better opportunities if she went to one of the country’s top prep schools. They tried to make it sound like they were doing it for Blaire, but she knew the truth—that Enid wanted her gone, that she was tired of arguing with Blaire over every little thing. That’s how she found herself going away to Maryland, where she knew absolutely no one, ten hours from her home in New Hampshire. And to add insult to injury, Mayfield insisted she repeat the eighth grade, since she’d missed so much school the year before when she’d had mono. It was ridiculous.

But once she got to Mayfield, Blaire had to admit that the school grounds were beautiful—grass so green it didn’t look real and Georgian-style buildings dotting the campus, giving it a college feel. And the facilities were amazing. There was a tremendous swimming pool, stables, a state-of-the-art gym, and plush dorm rooms. It was a definite step up. Besides, her house wasn’t hers anymore. Enid’s touch was everywhere, her ridiculous homemade crafts all over the kitchen and living room.

Her first day at Mayfield, the headmistress had taken her around the campus. A woman of indeterminate age, she wore her hair in a tight bun, but she had a kind face and a soft voice, and Blaire had found herself suddenly wishing she would stay with her.

The headmistress opened the door to a classroom, and as the teacher welcomed them in, the room had grown silent and all the girls turned, their eyes settling on her. They were in uniforms: white button-down shirts, plaid skirts, white socks, shiny loafers, and navy cardigans. Upon closer inspection, subtle differences emerged—gold or silver post earrings, add-a-bead necklaces, thin gold bangles. Blaire curled her fingers into her hands to hide her chipped pink nail polish. The headmistress had already informed her that only clear polish was acceptable, but said she’d overlook it today.

As Blaire looked around at all the other girls, she laid eyes on Kate for the first time. Shiny blond hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. A hint of clear lip gloss on her bow-shaped lips. Blue eyes the color of the Caribbean—or at least the way it looked in pictures. She could tell right away that Kate was the type of girl that everyone liked.