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PERLA

Day of the party

9:30 a.m.

I moved quickly through the first floor, mentally checking off to-do list items. My stomach was in a knot of excitement and nerves, and the feeling was both familiar and nostalgic. After tonight, I would likely never kill again. This would be so iconic, so sensational, it wouldn’t be wise for me to attract any additional attention for a long time. But also, I wouldn’t need to. I’d finally have what I wanted from the start—a distraction-free relationship with my father and the recognition and fame I deserved. The glow from this ... it would follow Perla Wultz forever. Maybe I’d even change my name back to Jenny Folcrum. I’d wait until things started to die down and then do it as a powerful tribute—a phoenix rising from the ashes, wanting to shed her tragic past and reclaim the life she had been forced to surrender.

Yeah, I liked that. That could definitely spin. Tomorrow, or maybe the following day, I would hire a publicist to brainstorm and coordinate these sorts of things with. You had to be smart with your media positioning and opportunities. An expert would know how to best capitalize on that.

I started up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. I’d given Paige detailed instructions on how to decorate Sophie’s door and room, and I checked my watch now, anxious about her progress.

There were boxes of supplies strewn across the second-floor hall. I pressed my tongue against my teeth and carefully stepped around the items. Up ahead, she was standing on a stool and stretching up to tape a banner above the doors. She was barefoot, in conservative gray capris and a white button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled to her elbows. So far, she had affixed the H and the A . She had already wrapped the doors in birthday-cake wrapping paper and set out two marble plant stands with balloon bouquets on either side of the doors.

“This looks great,” I said, meaning every word.

“Thanks,” she said brightly, stepping off the stool and looking at her handiwork. “There’s going to be a balloon arch also. Balloons are really big right now.”

“Yes, I’ve seen them.” I looked around, spotting the balloon pump and boxes of latex. “Guess that’s what all this is for.”

“Yeah, I found a video that shows how to build one. I haven’t done it before, but it seems pretty easy.”

I nodded. “Good work.”

I peeked into Sophie’s room, but it was the same. I gave it a quick once-over, satisfied that the dolls were still in the closet and that Madeline had cleared some of the clutter off her counters and surfaces. There were fresh flowers on each bedside table and in her bathroom.

“You’re decorating her room also, right?” I returned to the hall, ducking around Paige’s ladder.

“Yep, but not as much. Like you said, streamers and maybe a balloon arch around the balcony doors. I have to see how many I have left.”

I nodded. “If you don’t finish in time to pick her up from soccer, come find me. I’ll go and get her.”

“’Kay, but I should be finished no problem,” she said, a white balloon in hand.

With the room in progress, I went into our bedroom, closing the door behind me and locking the bolt. I went into the closet and pulled out a big Neiman Marcus shopping bag. It was a high-quality paper bag, big enough to hold all my items.

I set it on the floor in the closet; then I moved to the section that housed my winter suits and blazers. I slid the hangers to the left side and removed the back panel of the closet. There was a hidden cavity there, one of many I had created during the build. And there, for the last few weeks, I’d been accumulating items for tonight.

A white blanket like the one my father had stretched out for us to have a picnic on.

A deck of playing cards and a Ouija board.

A knife from the kitchen, one I’d picked up after Paige had used it to cut up an apple for Sophie. I’d sharpened it, then placed it in a Ziploc bag to keep her fingerprints intact.

A pair of gloves to keep my own prints from contaminating the scene.

The plastic poncho.

I placed everything in the bag, then replaced the cavity door and put the bag behind the suits. Pulling the hangers back into place, I arranged the clothing to make sure it was hidden.

Satisfied, I put on a smile and went downstairs. Less than three hours to go before the girls arrived.