them and brought them here. I wasn’t expelled. I was, in fact, even With that, the candles died as one and darkness consumed
more accepted than I had ever been.
us all.
I was now a Billings Girl.
It was happening. It was actually happening. Overcome with glee and relief, I searched the ring of faces for Ariana. My first friend.
The one who had brought me in, who had started it all. I wanted to thank her with my eyes. Let her know how much this all meant. I owed it all to her.
But when I found her, she was staring right through me again,
just like that first night when I had spotted her through the window at Bradwell. With the shadows from the candlelight dancing across her face, it was difficult to focus. With every moment her features morphed and changed. In her face, I recognized nothing, and my
pulse pounded with uncertainty.
Keep reading for a sneak preview
of PRIVILEGE!
© 2008 Alloy Entertainment
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CHAPTER
NEVER
P R I V I L E G E
“It’s not fair.”
It wasn’t a whine or a complaint, just a statement. A statement of the obvious, as far as Ariana Osgood was concerned. As she stared b Y
out the window of the Brenda T. Trumbull Correctional Facility for Women, it was all she could think to say. Outside, the leaves on the K ate Br i a n
trees swayed lazily in the warm summer breeze—a breeze she would be allowed to feel against her skin for exactly fifty-five minutes during midday recess. Recess. That was what the warden called it. Who ever heard of a teenage girl looking forward to recess?
“It’s just not fair.”
Across the wide oak desk, her “therapist” smirked. Shifting in his seat, Dr. Meloni leaned back, forcing his expensive leather chair to let out the loud creak that he knew made Ariana’s skin crawl. Just outside the fence that encircled the grounds, about a hundred yards from SIMON PULSE
where Ariana now sat, Meloni’s precious Doberman, Rambo,
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barked nonstop, as always. The inmates of the Brenda T. listened to he’d have the chance to torture the daughters of all the deep-pocketed that damn dog bark all day long, every day. It was as if Meloni was classmates who had never accepted him into their inner sanctum. And trying to remind them that he was always there, always watching, even torture them he did. He smiled when they cried. Laughed in the face when they weren’t in session with him. The man also couldn’t be away of their desperation.