First published in the USA by HarperCollins Publishers Inc in 2017
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2017
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd,
HarperCollins Publishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
The HarperCollins website address is:
www.harpercollins.co.uk
Copyright © 2017 by Alloy Entertainment and Katharine McGee
All rights reserved.
Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers 2017
Cover photographs © Ilina Simeonova / Trevillion Images;
Westend61 / Getty; Hongqi Zhang Alamy; Shutterstock.com.
Katharine McGee asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008179946
Ebook Edition © 2017 ISBN: 9780008179939
Version: 2017-07-26
For my parents
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright First published in the USA by HarperCollins Publishers Inc in 2017 First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2017 HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF The HarperCollins website address is: www.harpercollins.co.uk Copyright © 2017 by Alloy Entertainment and Katharine McGee All rights reserved. Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers 2017 Cover photographs © Ilina Simeonova / Trevillion Images; Westend61 / Getty; Hongqi Zhang Alamy; Shutterstock.com . Katharine McGee asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 9780008179946 Ebook Edition © 2017 ISBN: 9780008179939 Version: 2017-07-26
Dedication For my parents
Prologue PROLOGUE IT WOULD BE several hours before the girl’s body was found. It was late now; so late that it could once again be called early—that surreal, enchanted, twilight hour between the end of a party and the unfurling of a new day. The hour when reality grows dim and hazy at the edges, when nearly anything seems possible. The girl floated facedown in the water. Above her stretched a towering city, dotted with light like fireflies, each pinprick an individual person, a fragile speck of life. The moon gazed over it all impassively, like the eye of an ancient god. There was something deceptively peaceful about the scene. Water flowed around the girl in a serene dark sheet, making it seem that she was merely resting. The tendrils of her hair framed her face in a soft cloud. The folds of her dress clung determinedly to her legs, as if to protect her from the predawn chill. But the girl would never feel cold again. Her arm was outstretched, as though she were reaching for someone she loved, or maybe to ward off some unspoken danger, or maybe even in regret over something she had done. The girl had certainly made enough mistakes in her too-short lifetime. But she couldn’t have known that they would all come crashing down around her tonight. After all, no one goes to a party expecting to die.
Mariel
Leda
Calliope
Avery
Watt
Rylin
Calliope
Rylin
Leda
Watt
Rylin
Calliope
Avery
Leda
Avery
Rylin
Watt
Rylin
Calliope
Avery
Rylin
Watt
Avery
Calliope
Leda
Avery
Rylin
Calliope
Avery
Leda
Rylin
Avery
Watt
Calliope
Avery
Leda
Rylin
Calliope
Rylin
Avery
Watt
Leda
Rylin
Watt
Calliope
Watt
Avery
Calliope
Rylin
Calliope
Watt
Leda
Avery
Calliope
Leda
Watt
Avery
Rylin
Leda
Watt
Mariel
Acknowledgments
Keep Reading …
About the Publisher
IT WOULD BEseveral hours before the girl’s body was found.
It was late now; so late that it could once again be called early—that surreal, enchanted, twilight hour between the end of a party and the unfurling of a new day. The hour when reality grows dim and hazy at the edges, when nearly anything seems possible.
The girl floated facedown in the water. Above her stretched a towering city, dotted with light like fireflies, each pinprick an individual person, a fragile speck of life. The moon gazed over it all impassively, like the eye of an ancient god.
There was something deceptively peaceful about the scene. Water flowed around the girl in a serene dark sheet, making it seem that she was merely resting. The tendrils of her hair framed her face in a soft cloud. The folds of her dress clung determinedly to her legs, as if to protect her from the predawn chill. But the girl would never feel cold again.
Her arm was outstretched, as though she were reaching for someone she loved, or maybe to ward off some unspoken danger, or maybe even in regret over something she had done. The girl had certainly made enough mistakes in her too-short lifetime. But she couldn’t have known that they would all come crashing down around her tonight.
After all, no one goes to a party expecting to die.
MARIEL
Two months earlier
MARIEL VALCONSUELO SATcross-legged on her quilted bedspread in her cramped bedroom on the Tower’s 103rd floor. There were countless people in every direction, separated from her by nothing but a few meters and a steel wall or two: her mother in the kitchen, the group of children running down the hallway, her neighbors next door, their voices low and heated as they fought yet again. But Mariel might as well have been alone on Manhattan right now, for all the attention she gave them.
She leaned forward, clutching her old stuffed bunny tight to her chest. The watery light of a poorly transmitted holo played across her face, illuminating her sloping nose and prominent jaw, and her dark eyes, now brimming with tears.
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