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Don't do it. Don't tell. You've kept the secret so long--why tell now?Because I'm exhausted.
Because I need help. Because everyone already thinks I'm crazy anyway.
I looked up at Sabine. Her green eyes were wide with worry. She was clearly the only person who
cared about me around here. The very thought was so overwhelming, I caved like a paper tent.
"Someone's stalking me," I whispered, my face hot with shame.
"What?" Sabine gasped under her breath. She balled her napkin up in her hands and twisted.
"What do you mean?"
"For the past couple of months, someone has been leaving things for me to find... things related to
Cheyenne," I said in a rush. I couldn't believe I was finally letting this out, but it actually felt kind of
good to share it with someone--freeing. "They were in our room. They left black balls in my drawer
and Cheyenne's clothes in my closet, and they planted that perfume in my bag the day of the fund-
raiser, and they sent me these e-mails as if they were from Cheyenne. Hundreds and hundreds of
e-mails. I think they even fished that photo of me and Cheyenne out of my bottom drawer and
pinned it to my bulletin board that time... remember?"
Sabine bit her lip. "Which picture?"
I was so frustrated I dropped both hands on the table, which caused a clatter of silverware and
dishes. "Forget it. It's not important. But whoever it is has gotten really crazy since I moved into
Pemberly." I looked around to make sure no one was in hearing distance, then lowered my voice
just to be sure. "They left me those pills. The same ones Cheyenne used to kill herself. Or, well, I
mean,
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the same ones the murderer used to kill her, I guess."
Sabine gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "What?"
"Yeah. And that photo of me and Cheyenne, well, they pulled it out again, but this time they X'd
out the faces. And last night they destroyed my room. Left the bed unmade and did this other stuff
that Cheyenne once did to me...." I stopped, gasping for air. Someone at a nearby table laughed,
and a glass broke on the other side of the room, drawing a quick round of applause--reminding me
of where I was. For a moment I think I'd been so focused on my story, I'd forgotten. "Sabine, I
don't even want to go back to my room."