Pure Sin (Privilege 5)

“Not to look a gift invitation in the mouth, but didn’t we celebrate last night?” Ariana asked, tucking hers into her bag.

“Yes, but this is much bigger,” Maria told them. “All the local Stone and Grave chapters attend. Everyone from all the private schools in Virginia and Maryland will be there, as well of some of the most influential alumni. We’re talking serious networking possibilities.”

“How do you think she got to tour with the Boston Ballet last summer?” Lexa put in.

Ariana frowned, impressed. “All right. I’m in.”

“Of course you’re in,” Maria said, reaching back to tug the band from her ponytail. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders. “It’s an intense party.”

Ariana saw Landon reach up automatically to touch her hair. Maria froze and Landon flinched, pulling his hand back. It was all Ariana could do to keep from groaning in frustration. Why didn’t they just let the proverbial cat out of its stifling bag already? Who cared if the kids at school knew? They could still keep the secret from Maria’s dad, who’d forbidden her to date.

“Oh, and there’s a dress code,” Lexa said, slipping her invite into her handbag and reaching for the door. “Everyone has to wear gray or black.”

“That’s not very festive,” Ariana said. She’d always hated the tendency of the girls at Easton to wear black to parties. New York and Connecticut bashes always ended up looking like upscale funerals. And despite recent events, Ariana was in no mood for a funeral. “I don’t even own a black dress.”

“Shopping spree!” Lexa squealed as Maria strode off, Landon loping a few paces behind. “Come on. Let’s get inside before all the pancakes are gone.”

Ariana’s cell phone rang. Lexa paused in front of the door, waiting for Ariana to extract the phone from her bag. The number had a Texas area code, but it wasn’t one of the Covingtons’ numbers. She took a few steps away from the door to let April and Hunter—another couple of Stone and Grave stragglers—inside.

“Hello?” she said, as Lexa followed her, keeping a polite distance.

“Miss Covington? This is Leon Jessup, attorney at law,” a gruff voice greeted her.

“Uh . . . hello,” Ariana replied, confused.

“I’m very sorry to be the one to tell you, but your grandmother has passed away.”

Ariana simply stared at her phone, dumbfounded. Briana Leigh’s grandmother had died? Lexa eyed her with curiosity, and suddenly Ariana remembered the role she had to play here—that of a girl who had just found out that the only family member she had left in the world had just died.

“Miss Covington?” Jessup said.

“Yes,” Ariana said. She turned her profile to Lexa and gripped a low-hanging branch on an elm tree for support. She knew she should be crying, but she couldn’t seem to summon any tears for the old woman. “Yes, I’m here. I’m just . . . stunned. What happened?”

“It was peaceful,” the man replied. “She passed away during the night. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Ariana squeezed her eyes closed, forcing herself to think back to one of the worst days in her own life—the day of her own funeral. She’d watched her mother and father sob over the ashes they thought were hers. She felt a choking sob hit her throat, and tears stung her eyes. Lexa stepped closer and took her hand.

What is it? she mouthed.

“My grandmother,” Ariana whispered.

Lexa covered her mouth with her free hand.

“I know this is short notice, but I’m flying to DC tomorrow so that you can sign the paperwork,” Jessup said, all business.

“The paperwork?” Ariana repeated. A tear spilled over onto her cheek, and she would have wiped it away if Lexa weren’t crushing her fingers in her grip.

“Yes. So that you can receive your inheritance,” Jessup said impatiently.

“What?” Ariana blurted. Lexa was now alarmed. She searched Ariana’s face, as if looking for some kind of answer as to what, exactly, was going on. Ariana’s pulse raced like mad. “But I thought that was supposed to be held in trust until I was twenty-five.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” Jessup said. Ariana could hear papers rustling in the background. “As far as your grandmother’s estate is concerned, it all goes to you upon her death, and your parents’ estate is to be released to you as well. As of three o’clock this morning, Miss Covington, you are a very wealthy young lady.”

Ariana looked at Lexa, who was clearly desperate for the exact details. It took every single ounce of control and strength and sheer will inside of Ariana to appear as devastated as a truly dedicated granddaughter would have felt at that moment—to keep from twirling in a circle on the grass, throwing her head back, and singing at the top of her lungs.

Because she wasn’t Briana Leigh Covington. Not in her heart of hearts. Down deep, she would always be Ariana Osgood. And thanks to good old Grandma Covington’s timely kicking of the bucket, all of Ariana Osgood’s fondest dreams were about to come true.

“Are you going to go home for the funeral?” Lexa asked as the elevator rose to the top floor of Privilege House that evening. They’d spent the past few hours in the library with their American history study group, but Ariana had zoned out, daydreaming about what she was going to do with all her newfound money. But hearing Lexa’s words, Ariana’s heart dropped, as if the lift had suddenly taken a dive for the ground. She hadn’t even considered the funeral—which she absolutely could not attend, because someone would undoubtedly notice she was not the real Briana Leigh.