Revelation (Private 8) - Page 113

stood in the doorway with Sabine just behind me. Everyone looked over at us. Headmaster

Cromwell with his pinched expression. Ivy, looking waxy and pale, clutching the cell phone through

which her father was barking orders. Detective Hauer, holding the X'd-out photo of Cheyenne,

Noelle, Ariana, and Ivy in his gloved hand. Even the lawyer lady looked me up and down.

"Miss Brennan, Miss DuLac. This is not a theater matinee," Headmaster Cromwell said bitterly,

crossing his arms over his chest. " Kindly wait inside."

"Fine. I just want to say one thing to Ivy," I told him. Then I looked her in the eye. Looked right at

the girl who had spent the last two months doing everything she could think of to ruin my life, and

slowly smiled. "I hope you get everything that's coming to you," I said firmly.

Her jaw dropped slightly, and her eyes filled with confusion and ire. But I didn't care. I just

slammed my door right in her face.

"Wow. That was cold," Sabine said.

"She deserves it," I told Sabine, my tone grim. "For everything she's done to me, to Cheyenne...

she deserves much worse."

189

SO READY

That night I hummed to myself as I put the final touches on my new-and-improved gift for Josh. I

hadn't felt so at peace in my room since moving into Pemberly. In fact, I had lived a long while in

Billings without feeling this calm and secure. But now, the police finally had my stalker in custody.

For the first time in weeks, I was certain that nothing bad could happen. For the first time in weeks

I felt truly free.I was washing my hands of this mess. Ivy was now officially the problem of the

Easton Police Department.

I slipped Josh's gift into the small red box I had purchased at the stationery store that afternoon,

then affixed the glossy white bow to the top. Satisfied that I had done the best I could, I turned

and checked myself out in the mirror on the back of my door. I smiled at my reflection. My long

brown hair was pinned up on one side, while the other fell in sultry waves over my shoulder. I

wore black mascara and dark red lip gloss I had picked up on that fateful fund-raiser

190

weekend in New York. Sparkling in my earlobes were the diamond earrings Walt Whittaker had

given me last year. The effect was totally simple and totally glam. But the best part was the dress. I

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