Page 1 of Wicked Little Darling

PROLOGUE

REESE

TEN YEARS AGO

“Why couldn’t Dad come?”

“His boss called him in at the last minute, one of the other workers got food poisoning.” Mom gave me a pitying look without taking her eyes off the road and patted my leg. “Sorry, baby. He sends his love though.”

“How did he send it?” my younger sister asked while kicking the back of my seat.

“Don’t kick your brother’s seat, Lauren. He sent it in a special envelope that only Reese can see.”

“Why don’t I get one?”

“Well, that’s because…”

I tuned them out and turned toward the window, staring out at the gloomy landscape. The road we were on wound around a high cliff right next to the Atlantic Ocean. It had started snowing a few minutes ago, and I just hoped it stopped by the time we got to the concert hall. Yeah, I had an umbrella and my violin would be safe in its case, but I still worried about it. What if it fell andthe case broke open? What if snow somehow seeped through the cracks?

I loved this violin. Treasured it. Mom had bought it for me last year with money she’d been saving for a long, long time. Before that, all I was using were rentals. It was the very first violin I’d ever owned, and it was my favorite thing in the entire world.

Why did it have to snow today of all days? We’d had nothing but sun for like a month straight.

“You’re gonna win this time. In a few hours, you’ll be standing up there accepting that trophy ’cause you are wicked good.” She did an exaggerated Boston accent on the last two words, which really wasn’t very different from how she normally sounded. Or how I sounded. Or Lauren, or Dad.

I hadn’t really ever thought I had an accent until another kid at the competition last year pointed it out and made fun of me for it.

I’d almost punched him in the face.

I glanced over to see Mom wink at me, and I sighed. “Yeah, maybe. Carter Renfrew won’t be there, that’s the only reason I even stand a chance this year,” I said, drawing a heart on the window.

“I’m not gonna listen to that kind of talk. Who’s that little violin guy you love so much? What would he do? Huh? You think he’s this down on himself?”

“Mom, that was like four years ago,” I grumbled, thoroughly embarrassed.

Four years ago and my first crush, too—and the reason I started playing in the first place. But I’d promised myself I would forget about him.

“Well—damn it, Reese, put your seatbelt on!”

Crap.

“Oooh, Mommy said a bad word!”

“Sorry, baby,” she said to Lauren, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. The look she turned on me wasn’t as nice. “You’re almost fourteen, I shouldn’t have to tell you to wear your seatbelt!”

“Sorry,” I grumbled, grabbing the belt. I hated wearing it, feeling that tight constriction around my chest. I was hoping she wouldn’t even notice, but she noticed everything, annoyingly enough.

“That’s—”

A horn blared, and then Mom threw her arm across my chest while Lauren screamed at the top of her lungs.

It was snowing.

Someone was crying.

I looked to the left and saw my aunt sobbing into a tissue.

I moved my gaze back to the caskets and stared at the smaller one.