LATEST DREDGING OF LAKE PAGE INCONCLUSIVE AUTHORITIES STEP UP HUNT FOR FUGITIVE TEEN
Ariana leaned forward, grabbed the glass from Briana Leigh's hand before it could reach her mouth, and took a swig. The alcohol burned its way down her throat and she winced.
"Hello, rude!" Briana Leigh snapped. She wagged her fingers at the stewardess impatiently. "If you wanted one, you could have just asked."
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Ariana ignored her. She placed the drink down on the table and read the piece with dread in her heart. She learned that Dr. Meloni was still working at the Brenda T.--the investigation into the comments he had allegedly made about her suicide were unsubstantiated. Ariana hadn't mentioned him in her note, so there was no proof that his lack of professionalism had pushed Ariana to take her own life. He had been issued a warning by the warden, but that was all. Lucky bastard. He deserved to rot.
Meanwhile, Lake Page had now been dredged three times. Residents with homes on the lake were growing impatient, concerned about health issues. No one wanted their kids swimming in a lake that harbored a rotting corpse. The manager of the Philmore Hotel had reported several cancellations and suffering profits. Meanwhile, authorities were beginning to grow skeptical that such a corpse actually existed.
"We want visitors to the area to know that our lake is perfectly safe," said Christopher Hamm, PR director for the Philmore Family of Luxury Hotels. "At this point, all experts agree that if no body has been found, there is no body to be found. "
Ariana's stomach was twisted like ten thousand pretzels. Her hand trembled as she reached for the drink again. Why wouldn't they just give up? Why were they so determi
ned to find her body? And, honestly, so what if she had escaped rather than died? She wasn't going to hurt anyone. All she wanted was to start over. All she wanted was to be left alone. Why couldn't they just leave her alone?
"Did I mention the airport we're flying into is within miles of
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Kaitlynn's prison?" Briana Leigh said, swigging from her new drink and looking out the window.
"Oh?" Terrified heat prickled Ariana's skin. Her hands were so sweaty the newsprint was coming off on her palms. What was she thinking, flying back to D.C, enrolling in Atherton? She should have been on a plane to Australia by now, not careening right into the belly of the beast. She reached back to pull her extensions off her shoulders and fan her neck with the newspaper.
And then she paused, all that new hair clutched in her fist. Suddenly an icy calm came over her. It didn't matter that she was going to be landing so close to the Brenda T. She had new hair, new clothes, new eyes. She had even managed a hint of a tan after spending every moment she could out by the pool. Every day Ariana looked more like Briana Leigh and less like herself. Plus, it wasn't as if she was going to go anywhere near the prison. No one was going to recognize her at Atherton-Pryce Hall. There was no reason for any of those people to suspect a thing.
Briana Leigh slipped her sunglasses on as she gazed out the window and Ariana smirked. The girl sitting across from her could have been the old her. Maybe the police would spot Briana Leigh at Dulles Airport and arrest her instead.
Amused by this mental image, Ariana felt her blood cool considerably. It was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. Even if the authorities did "step up the search," they would never look for her at Atherton-Pryce. There was simply no reason for them to go there.
"I wish my grandmother could see me getting on that plane to Ibiza," Briana Leigh said, snorting a laugh. "She would just die."
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"Seriously," Ariana said, laying the newspaper aside. She took a deep breath, feeling more in control with each passing moment.
"Oh, no. You have no idea," Briana Leigh said. She was so drunk her words were slurring together. She swung her head around to look at Ariana and almost fell off her chair. Steadying herself with her hands on both armrests, she took a deep breath and focused. "I used to go to La Scuola Ferretta in Rome. Couldn't stand it. It was so freaking pretentious and the girls there hated me. They used to pick apart my Texan accent as if an Italian accent is so much better. Anyway, when I was thirteen, just after my mom died, my dad dropped me at the airport to go back to school and instead of getting on a plane to Rome, I hopped a flight to Paris."
Ah. The Paris incident, Ariana thought.
"Of course, after I didn't arrive at school, my father freaked out and called the airline. Eventually they figured out I was in France, so basically the entire Parisian police department was sent out looking for me. It was on the news there, and they searched all the five-star hotels. As if I was that stupid. I was using cash and staying in this tiny brothel-type place I found on the East Bank. It took them two days to find me. My grandmother said I almost killed my father."
Ariana let out a short laugh. Briana Leigh looked out the window again and took another swig of her drink. Her eyes were at half mast behind her sunglasses.
"Little did she know that a year later I actually would."
Ariana's stomach swooped so violently she was sure the plane had
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gone into a nosedive. She gripped her armrests and looked out the window. Nothing rushing past. Still cruising along. Her vision started to prickle over with the familiar black dots.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Briana Leigh could not have just said what Ariana had thought she had heard.
The girl leaned her forehead against the small ovular window. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she continued to cling to her glass.