[Hightest Ranking #68 in Mystery/Thriller] Pretty Little Liars meets Criminal Minds.
Class is in session and failure isn't an option.
Isabeth Ovien is the campus do-gooder with a sinister secret. Faith Payson is the campus bitch. And Benjami...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Isabeth finished cleaning the stable just in time to make it to her dyslexia tutoring session and after an extra long shower to wash away the day, she didn't entertain the thought of settling into bed for a good night's sleep. She didn't even rummage in her pajama drawer and mull over the options. No, she threw on something from the bottom drawer of her armoire, which she dubbed leisure. She wasn't one for yoga pants and a t-shirt, Kate Spade and J. Crew were her go-to designers since puberty but with Washington's conversation playing in her mind on a loop, fashion was her last concern.
It was board game night at Primrose dorm; Dorm Mother Kathy's attempt of making the girls fewer frenemies and more friends. A round of Monopoly was not going to make Harper mend things with Filomena after the girl told Malachi about her crush. Isabeth stole a handful of popcorn, told Dorm Mother Kathy she wasn't up to the festivities because her stomach was still bothering her—which wasn't a lie, and then crept to the kitchen and stuck out the back door.
Dawson Toliver campus was a ghost town and Isabeth walked through it like she was the Woman in White. She cut through the quad and broke the head guarder's rule by walking in his freshly cropped academic lawn as he called it. She skittered across the sidewalk, leaping onto the non-academic lawn.
She stretched as she reached the hexagonal tree bench. The warm, sticky night air eradicated her goose-bumped skin of the chill from the air-conditioned dorm. She yawned as she sat on the bench and then kicked off her sneakers. She propped her elbows on her knees and dropped her head in her hands with a loud sigh. Fulton's missing and you killed him, her conscience repeated over and over again.
"You can pray until Jesus comes back, but your conscience will never let you rest." A voice declared from above.
Isabeth's head snapped up and she saw the golden ankle hanging from a branch. "Faith!" Isabeth turned back around resting her eyes on the man-made lake. "What are you doing up there?" She asked with the surprise erased from her voice.
"Shouldn't a Payson be in Payson Tree?" Faith dropped her legs from the branches, stepping on the bench. "Isn't it ironic that Abraham Sycamore donated a new library and dedicated this tree to my family." Faith pulled her shorts down before sitting with a huff. "But none of the Sycamore's go here."
"I don't know." Isabeth slumped back against the tree. "The Sycamore's are...regular people."
"And we're not?" Faith swept her also bare feet across the grass.
"No," Isabeth answered with a chuckle. "Far from it. They live at home...with their parents—" Isabeth took a breath. "To protect them."
Faith whipped her head around. "You need protection?" Faith's blue eyes bore into Isabeth's.
Isabeth felt a tear forming in the well of her eye and looked away. "No." She swallowed the pain burning in her throat. "Insomnia and nausea are just getting the best of me."
