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From her vantage point in the middle of the Brenda T.'s grassy area, Ariana stared off at Lake Page through the checkerboard pattern of the fence. Gazed at the boats crisscrossing the placid surface and the turrets of the castlelike Philmore Hotel on the far bank. Formerly the lavish estate of some early Virginia settler from Britain, the home had recently been purchased by the Philmore Family of Luxury Hotels and renovated into the most exclusive property in the greater Washington, D.C., area. Inside those stone walls vacationers awoke to cushy terry-cloth robes and decadent room service. They padded to

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the spa in cashmere slippers to indulge in warm stone massages, deep-pore-cleansing treatments, and mud baths. They took leisurely dips in the lake on the private beach and sipped champagne on the huge, rustic porch overlooking the water.

Right there. Right there people were living the life Ariana should have been living. The life she had lived until Reed and Noelle had found out what she had done that horrible night in the woods.

"Come on. Let's eat," Kaitlynn said, interrupting her wistful thoughts. She touched Ariana's shoulder, steering her toward a cluster of picnic-style tables. "You'll feel better once you get some food in you.

Ariana looked down at her bagged lunch--it was easier to carry outside than a tray--and took a deep, bolstering breath.

Only a few more days, she promised herself. You can last a few more days....

As the two friends crossed to their usual table--a small, private one near the fence, with a partial view of the lake--Ariana became aware of a commotion a few yards off. Rambo, on his running line on the other side of the fence, was barking like he'd gone rabid and lunging for the chain link. On the inside, Crazy Cathy, one of the older inmates, was doubled over in tears, screaming the same three words over and over again:

"Hound from hell! Hound from hell! Hound from hell!"

Her short brown hair stuck out in all directions, as though she'd recently shoved her finger into an electrical outlet, which, Ariana thought, was not completely out of the question. Cathy began

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frantically clawing at her face as she screamed, her nails cutting a long, deep scratch in her cheek. Appalled, Ariana watched as two guards finally descended on Cathy and dragged her away from the fence. The dog, of course, kept right on lunging.

"That animal should be taken out to the lake and shot," Kaitlynn said, clucking her tongue. "He is just vicious."

Ariana dropped her lunch bag down on the table. "Now, Kaitlynn, you know that all of God's creatures serve some purpose," she admonished. Although if she hadn't needed Rambo, counted on him, Ariana would have shot the beast herself, just to punish Meloni. He loved that dog more than life itself.

"Not all," Kaitlynn said, easing her tall, lanky body down on the bench across from Ariana. She leaned her chin on her hand and sighed as she stared out at the lake. "I wonder what she's doing right this minute." A light breeze lifted her curls from her shoulders. "Probably lazing around at the country club pool, working on that skin cancer, and drinking herself into oblivion."

Ariana knew exactly who "she" was. Briana Leigh Covington. The object of Kaitlynn's obsession. The billionaire Texan oil heiress who had killed her own father to get her inheritance, then framed her best friend for the murder. The girl who hadn't even batted an eyelash when Kaitlynn had been sent away for life for a crime she had not committed.

"I got another letter from Grandma C. today," Kaitlynn said with a smile.

"Good," Ariana replied. "How is she?"

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"It sounds like she's doing well," Kaitlynn replied brightly. "Heading up some new foundation, looking forward to the cooler weather in the fall...."

Ariana smiled as Kaitlynn trailed off. She knew how much her friend looked forward to these letters. Grandma Covington was the only person who ever wrote to her. When Kaitlynn was thirteen years old, her parents had died in a plane crash and her aunt and uncle had refused to take her in because of a falling-out they'd had with her parents a few years prior. The Covingtons, who were old family friends, had welcomed Kaitlynn into their sprawling mansion, and Kaitlynn had instantly bonded not only with "Grandma C," but with Briana Leigh as well. Everything had seemed perfect, until it all fell apart.

"Is she still living with Briana Leigh?" Ariana asked.

"Yes." Kaitlynn looked at the ground. "It must be so strange for her, living on the estate her son built. You know, now that he's..."

Kaitlynn swallowed. She couldn't even finish the sentence. Ariana's heart went out to her. Kaitlynn had been through so much even before being falsely accused of murder. First, her parents' death. Then her surrogate mother, Mrs. Covington, had died of cancer when Kaitlynn was fifteen, which had caused Kaitlynn's best friend, Briana Leigh, to become increasingly withdrawn, bitchy, and self-centered--all of which had come to a boiling point on the night Mr. Covington died. According to Kaitlynn, Briana Leigh's father had refused to write her a check for some ridiculous purchase, so she had snapped and shot him with his own gun in order to get her hands on her inheritance.

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But since cold-blooded murderers were generally sent away for life, Briana Leigh had to find someone to frame for the murder. She had chosen Kaitlynn to take the fall, and Kaitlynn had been locked up in the Brenda T. ever since.

Even though she'd heard the story at least a thousand times, Ariana simply could not understand how any jury could look at Kaitlynn and find her guilty. The girl was pure innocence. Apparently not even Grandma C. thought Kaitlynn was responsible for the death of her only son. The old woman was the only person who had ever written to Kaitlynn since she'd been incarcerated--although Kaitlynn had never shared the contents of those letters with Ariana. Some things, Ariana knew, were simply too difficult to talk about.

And just to make the whole thing even more unbearable, Kaitlynn was now flat broke. Much of her own inheritance had been spent on her defense. Some had been used to bribe the judge into placing her at the Brenda T. What was left had been transferred to her cousin Robert once Kaitlynn became a ward of the state--Robert, who was the only son of the couple who had refused to take care of Kaitlynn when she was orphaned. So if Kaitlynn ever did get paroled, she would have to start from scratch.

The whole thing was just too unfair. Every time Ariana thought about it, her skin grew hot with anger.

"I wonder if she has any new friends," Kaitlynn continued, her words barely audible over Rambo's barking. "I wonder if she even realizes that she sent her only true friend away...."

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