Privilege 1 - Privilege (2 page)

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But no matter how the groundskeepers tried to mask it, that fence was still there. Staring Ariana in the face. Appearing nightly in her already fraught dreams. Her worst and most unrelenting enemy. The enemy she'd have to conquer in just a few short days.

"I'm just saying, it could be worse," Kaitlynn replied. "We could be in one of those maximum security thingies with no view and no free time and all that gray...." Kaitlynn shuddered.

"I like gray. I feel gray," Ariana told her, staring straight ahead as they walked.

Kaitlynn let her thick brown curls fall forward and gave Ariana a sympathetic look. Normally a look like that would have made Ariana bristle, but not coming from Kaitlynn. Kaitlynn had been there for Ariana from the moment Ariana had been shoved into their shared cell nearly a year and a half ago, the day after she'd been found guilty of Thomas's murder by reason of insanity. Kaitlynn had listened to her story. Had sympathized. Had given Ariana the room's one good pillow and let her keep it to this day. Kaitlynn was her only friend inside the Brenda T.--and maybe in the world.

Not that Ariana had expected to hear from Noelle Lange after everything that had happened. Or Kiran Hayes or Taylor Bell. But one card, one tiny little care package, would have been nice. They were probably too busy hanging out with Reed Brennan, being friends with Reed Brennan, taking Reed Brennan's side....

"Ariana, stop!" Kaitlynn said, reaching for Ariana's arm with alarm. Ariana hadn't even noticed her fingernails digging angry grooves into the flesh of her forearm. She forced herself to breathe. Fine. She was

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fine. Thinking about her former friends---about her-- always rattled Ariana. After everything that had happened, it was amazing how easily they seemed to have forgotten her.

"I'm sorry you had a bad session with Dr. Meloni," Kaitlynn said in a placating way. She tilted her head, a tell that Ariana recognized. It meant that Kaitlynn was going to tell a joke or say something witty. "But let's be honest. When have you ever had a good one?"

"Fair point." Ariana smiled, pleased that she had correctly predicted Kaitlynn's response. Ariana had been practicing reading people, noticing the habits and mannerisms that betrayed their intentions. She had made mistakes in the past--miscalculated--but she would never let that happen again. She was getting better, and this exchange with Kaitlynn proved it. But then again, Kaitlynn wasn't the most complex person in the world.

"And look around," Kaitlynn said, lifting a free hand. "It's beautiful out. Sunny... warm, not an ounce of humidity... a nice breeze coming in off the lake."

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...."

As Kaitlynn spoke, she slipped smoothly into her Texan drawl.

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The accent always became more pronounced when Kaitlynn spoke about home, and especially about Briana Leigh. Ariana had noticed it on her very first day at the Brenda T. but had never pointed it out to Kaitlynn, lest her friend become self-conscious of the quirk. Ariana's Southern accent worked in much the same way. There were many people at Easton Academy who had never even realized she was from the South, but when she talked about her mother or her childhood--which was rare--the twangs and "y'alls" came right out without her even realizing it. Ariana also consciously threw them in when she needed something. Over the years she had found that when playing the damsel-in-distress card, it was more effective when that damsel was a Southern belle. As if women from the North were so much stronger and more capable. Right.

"Kaitlynn, you must stop obsessing about Briana Leigh," Ariana said as she removed her club sandwich from the paper bag. She smoothed the bag out on the table as a place mat, making sure all the corners were flattened, then set the sandwich down and carefully removed the wax paper, which she folded into a neat square. Kaitlynn automatically produced a large stack of napkins from the waistband of her state-issue jeans--cheap, light-wash, and made pocket-free in order to prevent the inmates from hiding contraband--and gave one to Ariana, who wiped each of her fingertips, one by one. "Obsession is unhealthy," she added.

Kaitlynn raised an eyebrow at Ariana's perfectly folded wax paper but stayed mum.

Rambo's barking had subsided into a constant snarl now that Crazy

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Cathy wasn't rattling the fence and ranting at him. Ariana's shoulder muscles relaxed slightly, and she removed the bread from the top of her sandwich.

"I know I shouldn't think about Briana Leigh," Kaitlynn said, opening her own lunch bag. "But how am I supposed to stop? It's all wasted on her. All of it. The freedom, the cash, the life."

She dropped her head in her hands, the tips of her hair grazing the coarse grain of the picnic table surface. The only time Kaitlynn ever grew despondent was when she was talking about Briana Leigh Covington. Even over the past couple of grueling weeks as Kaitlynn had tried to find a lawyer who would appeal her case and failed (now that she had no money, attorneys weren't quite so interested in her), she had somehow stayed bright-eyed and peppy. But as she watched Kaitlynn now, Ariana's heart skipped a beat in sympathy. She took a break from her meal preparations and cleared her throat. Rambo started to bark feverishly again. He was getting closer to their table, but was separated as always by that horrible fence.

"Kaitlynn," Ariana said firmly. "Kaitlynn, look at me."

Her friend glanced up, already chagrined.

"Everything is going to be okay," Ariana told her. "One day, we are going to get out of here. And when we do, I promise you, you are going to get your revenge."

A warmth spread throughout Ariana's chest. A warmth of pride. Of strength. A warmth she clung to. It set her apart from the other inmates--the pathetic, the insane, the hopeless. It was going to set her free. Her and Kaitlynn. Because Kaitlynn clearly did not have

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the tools to free herself. She needed Ariana. And Ariana liked to be needed. To help those weaker than herself. To be the strong one.

Kaitlynn blushed and looked down again, tracing a knot in the wood with her fingertip. "I hate it when you say 'revenge.' It sounds so... medieval. I could never actually hurt anyone. Not even her."

Sometimes Kaitlynn amazed Ariana. How could anyone go through what she had gone through and not come out the other side just a little bit hardened? She reminded Ariana of the way she used to be, before Thomas. Before that Christmas at Easton. Before all the death and disappointment and heartbreak.

Tears stung Ariana's eyes at the thought of the girl she used to be. The girl she had been with Thomas. Stung at the memory of Thomas's playful smile, his searching blue eyes, his rough hands. But she quickly blinked them away.

"I know," Ariana said finally, placing the two halves of the wheat bread down on a napkin. Rambo was going berserk again now, his bark so close it felt like it was coming from inside Ariana's brain. "That's why I'm going to be there to help you."

Kaitlynn smirked, amused, as though there was no way either one of them would ever get out of the Brenda T., let alone both of them. Ariana bit her tongue.

You think I can't make it happen? she thought. Just wait.

"What would you do if you had Briana Leigh's money?" Kaitlynn asked, leaning her chin on her hand.

"Go to any school I wanted," Ariana said automatically.

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"Really? With that kind of money you'd never have to see the inside of a classroom again," Kaitlynn said with a laugh.