This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright 2010 by Random House Childrens Books
Cover art copyright 2010 by Getty Images
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Ember, an imprint of Random House Childrens Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. Originally published on the website www.stardoll.com in 2010. First published in book form in paperback in Great Britain by Random House Childrens Books, a division of the Random House Group Limited, London.
Ember and the colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
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eISBN: 978-0-375-98879-0
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v3.1
Contents
Chapter 1: Back to School
Faye McCarron tucked a windblown strand of brown hair back beneath her wool hat before leaning down to snap another picture. She didnt know how long the snow would last, and there was no sense in missing an opportunity.
Do you really want to be late for the first day of school? Liz Wilson asked impatiently. You know how cranky you get when youre late.
Faye glanced at Liz, sticking her tongue out before turning to snap another image of the flowers outside Winter Mill High School.
The bells about to ring, Liz warned.
Faye straightened up with a sigh. She was taller than her best friend by a couple of inches, something Liz was always complaining about, though Faye couldnt see that it made much difference. Liz, come on. Lookthese roses are covered in snow and its only the first week of September!
I know, right? Liz agreed, shaking her curly brown hair out of her perfectly made-up dark eyes. Its weird. I mean, maybe one freak snowfall would be OK, but anyone would think this was Christmas. The whole town looks like a greeting card.
Exactly, said Faye, taking another picture. Which is why these photos will make a great story in the Miller it never snows this early in New England. Totally weird.
Liz snorted. Sure, because its not as if the school paper wont have tons of dorks sending them pictures of their really cool snowmen.
Faye looked at her friend, knowing she was teasing. Are you calling me a dork?
There was a brief silence. So, asked Liz, smoothly changing the subject, any news from your dad this morning?
Faye shook her head. No.
And he hasnt emailed? Or called?
No.
Liz was quiet for another moment before she said brightly, Oh well, hes probably just busy or something. Wheres the latest dig?
Faye took her last picture and straightened up, fitting the lens cap to her digital SLR. It had been a Christmas present from her dad the previous year, the most expensive thing hed ever given her. The plan was that when she was older, Faye would join him on one of his archaeology trips as an intern photographer. She couldnt wait; it was something shed wanted to do for ages. To visit all the incredible places her dad had told her about, with him there too, would just be awesome. Until then, though, Faye wished he could find a way to stay in touch more often when he was away. Sometimes weeks went by without a word, and Faye always worried, though she tried to hide it.
Hes in Tanzania.
Liz frowned. In Australia?
No. Liz, thats Tasmania.
Oh.
Tanzanias in Africa.
There you go! The mail probably isnt too good there, right? Or phones. Or the Internet
Despite herself, Faye grinned, pulling her friend into a brief hug. Thanks, Lizzie.
For what?
Trying to make me feel better.
Liz hugged her back. Thats what friends are for.
The sudden loud noise of a car behind them made them both jump. They turned to see a sleek black Cadillac slide to a halt a yard or so away, tires carving deep tracks in the snow.
Omigod! squeaked Liz in excitement. I bet thats him!
Who?
The Morrow kid! Lucas!
The two girls watched as the passenger door opened and a boy of about sixteen stepped out. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with very pale blond hair that flopped across his brow above piercing blue eyes. He slung a backpack over his shoulder, reaching up to push his hair back as he glanced up at the school.
Omigod, Liz stage-whispered. Hes gorgeous. Take a picture!
What?
For the paperyou can do a story. About about his arrival, and the whole Morrow mystery.
The Morrow mystery? What are you talking about?
The whole towns going on about it. Come on, Faye, you must have heard about the Morrows arriving?
Faye had. Everyone was excited about the fact that Mercy Morrow, the fabulously wealthy heiress, had bought the old mansion in the woods.
I know the whole town seems to be fascinated by them, said Faye. But I dont see whats so mysterious.
Liz sighed dramatically, as if she couldnt believe what she was hearing. Faye. Why on earth would Mercy Morrow, one of the richest women in America, take a house here in quiet old Winter Mill? she asked, repeating what many people in the town were saying. She could go anywhereLos Angeles, Monaco, Rome but she came here. She paused for dramatic effect. And nobody knows why.
Maybe she wanted to be in a place where no one would talk about her, Faye suggested wryly.
Come on, Faye. Just take a picture.
OK, OK. Faye unhooked her lens cap and raised the camera, but before she could snap a shot, the drivers door opened. A tall, pale man appeared, barking at them in an unpleasant, gravelly voice. His narrow face looked as if someone had taken a skull and covered it with skin-colored paint, it was so gaunt. His eyes were sunken in their sockets, dark and cruel. Just looking at him creeped Faye out.
No pictures, he said roughly.
Its just for the school paper, said Faye.
I said , no pictures.
Its OK, Ballard, Lucas Morrow said, pushing the car door shut. I got it. Go back to Mom.
The man stared at Faye coldly before slowly getting into the car again. A moment later, the Cadillac pulled away.
Wow. My first locals, said the boy with a slight smile as he reached them.
Hi, said Faye, thrown slightly off-balance by her run-in with the man called Ballard. So youre Lucas Morrow? Its nice to meet you. Im Faye, and this is Liz.
Lucas looked them both up and down. So, youre like what? The top girl reporters of the small-town National Enquirer ?
Faye narrowed her eyes. The National Enquirer?
Lucas smirked. Yeah. Its a trash mag.
I know what it is.
Faye watched, annoyed, as Lucas turned on his most charming smile. It showed his perfectly even, white teeth. Its funny. Sometimes.
Faye refused to be charmed, still upset by his trash-mag gibe. Sure it is.
There was a brief, awkward pause. Sorry, Lucas muttered. That was supposed to be a joke. Guess Im more nervous than I thought. Its my first day.
Faye shook her head. Its fine.
Lucas glanced at her, a mischievous look in his eye. No? Are you sure? Because you dont look fine. You look angry . Your eyes are flashing.
Oh, dont worry about that, Liz piped up before Faye could answer. They always do it. All her family have crazy green eyes.
Lucass eyebrows shot up. Crazy green eyes?
Oh no, said Liz, realizing what shed said, I didnt mean not crazy , crazytheyre just, you know, really green.
Lucas laughed. Well, thats good. Crazy Faye isnt much of a nickname.
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