Page 1 of Serenity Falls

Serena

I arrived in Serenity Falls butt first and screaming.

That’s what my mom always tells people.

I was the first baby to be born here. Fifty years ago, only a week after the town was founded. You’ve probably seen me on posters and TV and in just about every fucking article about Serenity Falls.

New beginnings, the birth of a new community. All that bullshit.

And you’ve probably heard about Serenity Falls too.

The perfect American town, built by the Winsom Corporation. A place to grow up, grow your family and grow old together. Every house is whitewashed, gabled and pristine. There’s a bustling downtown, quaint square, beautiful lake (although not for swimming. Not if you want to keep all your limbs – the gators around here are pretty big). Oh, and did I mention the fairground? Big Wheel, Hook a Duck, Carousel with those freaky-looking horses. All you need is a magical nanny floating down on her umbrella. Practically perfect in every way.

Even the people are perfect. I mean, they must be. Because there has never been a murder in Serenity Falls. Never. Not in half a century.

At least, that’s what everyone believes.

But it’s not true.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t be dead.

1

‘I hate you!’

The bedroom door slams. Hard enough to make me fear for the doorframe, the roof tiles and the San Andreas fault.

‘Sadie. Open the door.’

‘No.’

‘You’re being unreasonable.’

‘Yeah, well, you’re being a total arsehole.’

‘Nice.’

‘I just want to take Zelda.’

‘We’ve been through this. It’s not practical or appropriate.’

‘She’s my cat. I can’t just leave her here in Manchester while we go to fucking Florida.’

‘It’s not fucking Florida.’ I pause. ‘The “fucking” is silent. Look—’ I lean against the door and speak through the wood. ‘She’ll be fine, Sadie. This is her home.’

‘Yeah, but it’s not ours. Not any more. New people will move in, and they won’t look after her like I do. They might have a dog. A great big, hairy dog that digs.’

I rest my head against the door and butt it gently. ‘For fuck’s sake.’

‘The “fuck” is silent, Dad.’

I smile despite myself. Then I hear her move behind the door.

‘Dad. Please.’

I’m a soft touch about a lot of things: bedtimes, homework, clothes, septum piercings – but this … it’s nuts. Insane. I sigh. ‘You can explain it to airport security.’

‘Is that a yes?’