Perfect Mistake (Privilege 3)

Kaitlynn laughed in her sleep. It was one of the quirks Ariana used to find endearing about her. Precious. Now, as Ariana sat on the edge of her bed in her flimsy, white eyelet nightie, her bare feet flat on the glossy wood--paneled floor, the short laughs and occasional giggles made her tiny arm hairs stand on end. What was the girl dreaming about? What made a conniving, scheming psychopath laugh in her sleep?Ariana sighed. All she wanted was a normal life. A second chance. To be free of her past and all the mistakes she had made. Free of all the people who had tried to stifle her and tell her what she could and could not have. But Kaitlynn was not going to let that happen. She was going to be here in this dorm room every day making damn sure Ariana was never able to put these things behind her. Never able to move on.

Suddenly, Kaitlynn turned over onto her side, her back now facing

26

Ariana. A quick sizzle of possibility raced through Arianas veins. Her fingers reached for the feather pillow at the head of her bed. She had tried to do it once before and failed, but this opportunity was so much more convenient. Kaitlynn was dead asleep, mere footsteps away. All Ari

ana had to do was bring the pillow down over her face and hold it there. A minute or two of struggle and this could all be over. She could be free.

Her fingernails dug into the five--hundred--thread--count pillow case. Her jaw clenched.

Just do it, Ariana. She deserves it. She deserves it for everything she's done to you. Everything she did to Briana Leigh.Briana Leigh.

Kaitlynn laughed again, and Arianas grip loosened. She couldn't kill Kaitlynn. Obviously. If "Lillian Oswald" turned up dead, there would be an investigation. It would take the authorities about two seconds to discover that Lillian did not exist. Another two to run Kaitlynn's face through some database and learn who she really was. Two seconds more for them to turn to the roommate and discover her true identity as well.

And then it would all come to light. How Ariana had faked her own death. How she had murdered Briana Leigh Covington and sunk her to the bottom of Lake Page for the authorities to find in her place. How she'd assumed Briana Leigh's identity so she could attend APH. Ariana would be back at the Brenda T. before she could say "guilty as charged."

Ariana sighed. She placed her pillow back where it belonged and

27

looked around the broad expanse of her dorm room. There were only four rooms on the top floor of Bella, each with a stunning view out its plate glass windows. Ariana and Kaitlynn's looked out over the campus and the thick green trees surrounding it. Their private suite consisted of a large bedroom, a bathroom, and a lounge area. The bedroom was outfitted with two dressers, two desks, and two walk--in closets. The bathroom boasted both a sunken tub and stall shower, and connected to the quaint lounge on the other side, which contained several bookshelves, a pullout couch, and a small flat--screen television. Each of the other three suites was exactly the same, except that Lexa and Maria had a bay window with a window seat and an unparalleled view of the river. Soomie and Brigit had chosen the room that looked north toward Washington D.C., and Tahira and Allison, Ariana's former roommate, were on the south side, facing the playing fields and gymnasium.

At least Ariana had snagged a better view than those two. Allison had been her roommate at Cornwall Hall during Welcome Week and a bitch to Ariana from day one. When it came to Tahira, Ariana had decided she didn't like the exhibitionist girl the moment she'd met her. The girl was everything Ariana detested--loud, conceited, brash, and braggy. But if Ariana had to live across the hall from her, at least she could take comfort in the fact that she'd be living in a superior room.

Kaitlynn rolled over onto her back and snorted. Ariana's lip curled in disgust. Her fingers curled into tight fists. She had to get out of there before she snapped and did kill the girl. She pushed her feet into

28

her cashmere slippers and padded out into the hallway. At the center of the tower was a common--area bathroom, probably built in case the girls didn't want to invite visitors to use their own. Ariana shoved through the door and flipped the light switch. The fluorescents overhead blinked and crackled to life, winking in and out until they finally settled on a weak yellow glow. Apparently this room wasn't used very often. With its cracked ceramic tile and plain white walls, it looked as if it hadn't been renovated in twenty years, unlike the rest of Wolcott, which was updated, freshly painted, and pristine.

Ariana walked to the nearest mirror. She took a good look at herself in the dim half--light and saw the fear reflected in her ice blue eyes. The uncertainty.

"You can't let her do this to you," Ariana said to herself. Her voice was quiet but firm. She stared into her own eyes and forced the fear out. "You've worked too hard. This is your life. Your life. She can't have a piece of it. You can't let her."

Ariana heard the sound of door hinges squeaking. Her heart vaulted into her throat and she whirled around. There was a creak out in the hall. The unmistakable sound of careful, tiptoeing steps.

Kaitlynn?

The fluorescent lights buzzed and started to wink in and out again. Ariana cursed under her breath. If Kaitlynn was going to stage a sneak attack, she had to be ready. She looked around the unfamiliar room for a weapon, but there was nothing that wasn't nailed down. Soap dispenser, hand dryer, mirror. All bolted to the walls. The footsteps were getting closer. Ariana's eyes fell on the silver garbage can next to

29

the sinks. She was just stooping to pick it up, when the door to the bathroom swung wide.

"There you are," Palmer whispered.

Ariana glanced up at him over her shoulder. She realized in a rush how she must look, half stooped over in her short nightgown, one hand tipping back the base of a refuse container.

"I just checked your room and your bed was empty, so I . . ." He paused and squinted at her. "What're you doing?"

It was a fair question.

"I . . . um ... I thought I saw a scrap of tissue sticking out from under the can and I was going to throw it away, but I guess it's just these awful lights playing tricks on me." She carefully replaced the garbage can and stood up. Her fingers felt grimy, so she washed them quickly in the sink, taking a moment to breathe and let her adrenaline subside.

"So ... I heard you and Lexa broke up," she said, glancing at Palmer in the mirror.

"Yeah." He stepped closer to her from behind.