The Dolls Read Online Free PDF Page A

can feel the heat rising to my cheeks, but I’m finding it impossible to look away.
    The minister puts the Bible down then and begins to speak. “It is with great sadness today that we lay to rest one of this town’s daughters, only seventeen years old. She was a member of our church, and I knew her as a kind, good-hearted young woman. I pray that the Lord is welcoming Glory Anne Jones into his kingdom.”
    My heart skips a beat, and I momentarily forget all about the hot jogger. “Wait, it’s Glory Jones who died?”
    Drew looks surprised. “You knew her?”
    “N-not really,” I stammer. “We just met once. She was picking herbs in my yard on Saturday night and I interrupted her. She seemed . . . nice. Normal. Not like she was planning to kill herself.”
    “Wait, you saw her Saturday night?” Drew asks. “What time?”
    “Maybe eight, eight thirty.”
    “Eveny,” he says, his voice hollow, “that was the night she died. You may have been the last person to see her alive.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
    HarperCollins Publishers
    ..................................................................
4
    T he rest of the ceremony goes by in a blur. I’m reeling as the minister drones on about how much Glory will be missed, and leads the group in a closing prayer. All I can think is, The only new person I’ve met so far in Carrefour is dead .
    After the funeral, I’m still deep in thought and staring at the tomb where Glory has just been interred when I hear Drew say, “Brace yourself.” I look up to see the group of four stunning girls and three perfect guys approaching. I open my mouth to say hi, but the girl in the middle, the one with the Medusa curls, speaks first.
    “You’re new,” she says bluntly. Up close, she’s even more stunning. Her dark skin is flawless, and her eyes are a startling violet. I glance uneasily at her big black bag.
    “You have a snake,” I reply and immediately feel like a fool.
    After a tense silence, she surprises me by laughing. “You’re very observant, new girl,” she says, her silken voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s your name?”
    I take a deep breath. I’m not ready to be marked as the poor little daughter of the suicidal lady just yet, so I shoot back, “What’s yours ?”
    She looks caught off guard. Behind her, I see the guy with the blue eyes hide a smile. “You must be the only person in a hundred mile radius who doesn’t know,” she says.
    “I must be,” I reply, trying to sound a lot more confident than I feel.
    When she replies, her words are clipped and cold. “Have it your way. I’m Peregrine Marceau, and this is Chloe St. Pierre.” She jerks a thumb at the Barbie doll girl beside her and adds, “Obviously.”
    “Wait, I know you. I mean I knew you,” I clarify.
    “What are you talking about?” asks the blonde. Her tone is aggressive, but I have a feeling she’s trying to sound tougher than she is to match up to her friend.
    “We played together when we were kids,” I say. Their mothers were my mother’s best friends, the two women who accompanied the police chief the night he told me my mother was dead. And their families are, if I remember right, the two other founding families of Carrefour.
    “What on earth are you talking about?” Peregrine asks in a bored voice.
    “I’m Eveny Cheval,” I say.
    The girls’ eyes widen, and behind them, I hear the gorgeous guy draw a deep breath.
    “Eveny Cheval ?” Chloe repeats in a whisper. She touches the black stone hanging from her neck and looks at Peregrine. “Sandrine Cheval’s daughter?”
    “That’s me,” I say weakly. It’s just like I thought; everyone knows I’m the girl with the dead mom. The two girls behind Chloe and Peregrine are whispering furiously and shooting me strange looks. The guys are standing silent, but all of them are gazing at me too.
    “Eveny,” Peregrine says after a moment. “Why yes, of course.” She pauses then shoots me a dazzling