tried them on, but they pinched my feet." "Of course they did, Ms. Big Foot. You totally need that surgery where they pare down your
tootsies," Vienna said. "Ew! Vienna!" I exclaimed. "What? Her feet are as wide as a duck's. Seriously! Have you not noticed? Here!
I'll show you!" Vienna exclaimed, grabbing one of London's legs and lifting it onto her lap. She tugged at the lace of one of London's
Coach booties and tried to pry it off. "Leave my monster feet alone!" London squealed, giggling as she tried to squirm from Vienna's
grasp. "No! The world needs to know about your deformity!" Vienna said with a faux cackle.
We were all laughing as Drew pulled the car out onto the FDR. Then, suddenly, all five of our phones beeped and sang in near uni-
son. Everyone scrambled in their bags, but my phone was hidden somewhere at the bottom of my Chloe. Vienna was the first to un-
earth her cell. "Omigod!" London and Vienna blurted in unison. They were both gaping down at Vienna's screen, looking ashen, Lon-
don's legs still hooked over Vienna's. "What?" I asked, sitting up straight again. "What's wrong?" "The cops just dragged Ivy off for
questioning!" London said, her eyes wide. My heart started to pound. They had come for her. They had finally come for her. "About
Cheyenne?" Sabine asked, glancing at me with concern. Vienna swallowed and nodded. "There must be new evidence or something.
They've actually reopened the case as a possible murder." Everything inside of me deflated. We sat there in stunned si
lence, letting the
true meaning of this sink in. Possible murder. Another murder. There could very well be a killer somewhere on campus. Again. Even
though I had known this was a possibility, I still felt as if I was hearing the news for the first time. I guess I had been hoping it would
all just go away. Now that hope had been dashed. I looked up at Noelle, my skin cold. She stared grimly back. We were going to have
to go through this. Again.
* * *
Later that night Constance, Rose, Tiffany, and I walked into the solarium together. I hadn't seen the place so dead in months, not
since Coffee Carma opened. But that night the place was so hushed it could have been a museum. People were talking--of course they
were talking--but they were talking in whispers. Paranoid, frightened whispers.
It was all too familiar. Too eerily, skin-tinglingly familiar. Cheyenne's death was bad enough. But Cheyenne's possible murder? It
had left the place grim. I wanted to tell them all what I knew--that Cheyenne's grieving parents had asked for the investigation and that
the police weren't 100 percent behind it--but I couldn't. Not without everyone knowing that I had been the one to visit with the cops
last week. I glanced right and saw Josh alone at a table with a book open in front of him. He was looking at me but quickly looked
away. What did that mean? "I really don't believe this is happening," Constance said under her breath, clinging to the sleeves of her
white sweater. As we wove our way around the cafe tables and couches, every eye in the room was on us. The Billings Girls. Once
again we were at the center of a murder investigation.
"How could it have been murder?" Tiffany whispered. "We were all there. We all saw her. She took pills. There was no violence,
no struggle. She wrote a note. I don't understand." Two notes, actually. But there was no need for them to know that. "Well, clearly