Ellery leans forward, looking interested. “Was she jealous?”
“If she was, you’d never know,” Mia says. “Daisy is sugar and spice and everything nice. The perfect Korean daughter. Until recently.”
The podium microphone screeches as Coach Gagnon taps on it. “Is this thing on?” he yells. Half the room laughs dutifully and the other half ignores him. I join the second group and tune him out, surreptitiously pulling out my phone. I haven’t heard from Declan since I met him at Bukowski’s Tavern. You still around? I text.
Delivered. Read. No response. Same story all week.
“Good morning, Echo Ridge High! Are you ready to meet your court?” I look up at the change in voice, and suppress a groan at the sight of Percy Gilpin at the podium. Percy is senior class president, and everything about him makes me tired: his energy, his springy hair, his relentless pursuit of Echo Ridge High elective offices, and the purple blazer he’s worn to every school event since we were freshmen. He’s also friendly with Viv Cantrell, which is probably all that anybody needs to know about him.
“Let’s kick things off with the gentlemen!” Percy rips open an envelope with a flourish, like he’s about to announce an Oscar winner. “You’ll be choosing your king from one of these three fine fellows. Congratulations to Theo Coolidge, Kyle McNulty, and Troy Latkins!”
Ezra watches, perplexed, as Percy raises his arms amid hoots and cheers. “What is with that guy? He’s like one of those old-school game show hosts in a teenager’s body.”
“You nailed it.” Mia yawns and twirls her thumb ring. “That went exactly as expected. Good for Troy, I guess. He’s not a total dick. Won’t win, though.”
Percy lets the backslapping and high fives subside, then opens another envelope. “And now it’s time for the ladies, who may be last but are definitely not least. Echo Ridge High, let’s give it up for Katrin Nilsson, Brooke Bennett, and—”
He pauses, looks up, and looks down at the paper in his hand again. “Um.” Another beat passes, and people start shifting in their seats. A few clap and whistle, like they think maybe he’s done. Percy clears his throat too close to the microphone, and the resulting screech of feedback makes everyone wince.
Mia leans forward, her face scrunched in confusion. “Wait. Is Percy Gilpin speechless? That’s a beautiful but unprecedented sight.”
Percy turns toward Coach Gagnon, who gestures impatiently at him to go on. “Sorry,” Percy says, clearing his throat again. “Lost my place for a second. Um, so, congratulations to Ellery Corcoran!”
Ellery goes still, her eyes round with shock. “What the hell?” she says, her cheeks staining red as scattered applause ripples through the auditorium. “How did that happen? It doesn’t make sense. Nobody here even knows me!”
“Sure they do,” Mia says, just as somebody yells out, “Who?” to muted laughter. Mia’s right, though; everybody knows who the Corcoran twins are. Not because they’re high profile at school, but because Sadie Corcoran, who almost made it in Hollywood, is larger than life around here.
And because Sarah Corcoran is Echo Ridge’s original lost girl.
“High five, princess!” Ezra says. When she doesn’t respond, he lifts her hand and slaps it against his own. “Don’t look so glum. This is a nice thing.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Ellery repeats. Percy is still at the podium, talking about next week’s pep rally, and the attention of the room has already started to wander. “I mean, did you vote for me?”
“No,” Ezra says. “But don’t take it personally. I didn’t vote for anyone.”
“Did you guys?” Ellery asks, looking at Mia and me.
“No,” we both say, and I shrug apologetically. “Nonvoters over here, too.”
Ellery twists her hair over one shoulder. “I’ve been at school less than two weeks. I’ve hardly talked to anybody except you three. If you guys didn’t vote for me—and believe me, I’m not insulted, because I didn’t vote either—then why would anyone else?”
“To welcome you to town?” I say half-heartedly.
She rolls her eyes, and I can’t blame her. Even after less than two weeks here, she has to know Echo Ridge High isn’t that kind of place.
Katrin’s in a mood Friday morning.
Her driving is worse than ever—stop signs optional, the entire way to school. When we arrive she parks crookedly between two spots, crowding out another kid who was headed our way. He honks as she flounces out of the car, slamming her door and taking off for the entrance without a backward look.
It’s one of those days when she’s pretending I don’t exist.
I take my time entering the building and as soon as I get to the hallway, I know something’s off. There’s a weird buzzing energy, and the snippets of conversation I catch don’t sound like the usual gossip and insults.
“Must have broken in—”
“Somebody hates them—”
“Maybe it’s not a joke after all—”
“It’s not like anybody did that to Lacey, though—”
Everyone’s grouped in clusters, heads bent together. The biggest crowd of people is around Katrin’s locker. There’s a smaller knot around Brooke’s. My stomach starts to twist, and I spot Ezra and Ellery standing next to hers. Ellery’s back is to me, but Ezra is turned my way, and his face stops me in my tracks. His laid-back, California-guy vibe is gone, and he looks like he wants to stab somebody.
When I get closer, I see why.
Ellery’s dingy gray locker is splashed with bright-red paint. A red-spattered, twisted doll dangles from the handle, just like the ones in the cemetery. I crane my neck to look down the hallway, and see enough to know Katrin’s and Brooke’s lockers got the same treatment. Thick black letters are scrawled across the red on Ellery’s:
REMEMBER MURDERLAND, PRINCESS?
I DO
Ezra catches my eye. “This is messed up,” he seethes, Ellery turns. Her face is composed but pale, a humorless smile at the corners of her mouth.
“So much for welcoming me to town,” she says.
CHAPTER TEN
Ellery
Saturday, September 21
“What are we looking for?” Ezra asks.
“I don’t know,” I admit, placing a stack of yearbooks on the desk in front of him. We’re at the Echo Ridge library on Saturday morning, armed with jumbo cups of take-out coffee from Bartley’s diner. I wasn’t sure we’d get them past the librarian, but she’s well into her eighties and asleep in her chair. “Anything weird, I guess.”