Chapter 1
The Becketts lived on a lush plot of land on a quiet street in Livingsday Terrace, the heart of the small town of Briarwood. Briarwood was a nothing town, a bathroom stop on the way to Ellis Harbor, a large city located on the estuary where the Blair River met the large Pendley Bay. Nonetheless, Briarwood was a quaint little area; two high schools, one hospital, a few grocery stores, a couple of churches, practically storybook worthy. There was an undeniable sense of trust among the locals, having grown up with the same neighbors their whole life. People left their doors unlocked at night. Everyone knew everything about everyone.
Molly Kaditz and Carter Beckett were high school sweethearts. They married at the ages of 23 and 24 respectively, soon after they had both finished college. Four years later, Molly became pregnant with their first child, a daughter to be named Genevieve. A month after the girl was born, the family moved to 1341 Livingsday Terrace.
The house was painted a pale blue-gray with a large front porch where Mr. and Mrs. Beckett would rock their daughter to sleep on warm summer nights. An immaculate white picket fence ran around the perimeter of the property to prevent the family dog, Tierney, from running away.
There was a balcony above the front porch, played upon for hours by 6-year-old Genevieve, who would throw the doors open and announce herself. She was Princess Gianna of Briarwood Palace. When she looked in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in her parents’ room, she saw herself dressed in a beautiful ruby-red ballgown and the finest jewels money could buy. Her mother even let her borrow the headpiece and high-heels she wore on the day of her wedding. To the outside world, she was just a little girl tripping over her own two feet in her mother’s red tunic and a set of plastic jewelry, staring at her neighborhood for hours as if she ruled them all. To her parents, however, she was a natural-born princess.
Until two years later, when Virginia came along.
Around 2:30 in the morning of January 28th, the Beckett family was awoken to the singing of their doorbell.
“Stay in bed, kitten,” Carter had instructed Genevieve. The young girl laid back down in her bed, waiting for her dad to come tuck her in again. “I’ll come get you if it’s anything important.” He stuffed the blankets back around his daughter and bent down to kiss her on the forehead.
“Promise, Daddy?” Genevieve pulled the blankets up to her nose.
“I promise. Go back to sleep now, it’s very late.”
Carter turned the lights back off and closed the door as he left the room, meeting up with his wife in the hallway. Molly rubbed her eyes and yawned as they quietly made their way down the stairs and to the front door.
“There’s no one there,” Molly declared, pressing herself against the cold wooden door to look through the peephole.
Cautiously, she opened the door. The freezing cold January air shot through the house in an instant, sending shivers down their spines. Carter placed a hand on the small of Molly’s back, looking past her for the hoodlum teenagers he expected to see running through the night, chuckling at their handiwork. What Molly found instead changed their lives forever.
At the doorstep, perched upon bristly welcome mat, was a large wicker basket containing a bundle of blankets. Molly bent down to pick the basket up, finding it to be several pounds heavier than she imagined. She nearly dropped the basket when it began to cry.
“Carter…,” she breathed, rushing into the living room and placing the basket next to her on the couch. Carter sat next to her so the basket was between them. They each took a corner of the top blanket and pulled it back to reveal the face of a confused, crying infant. Molly, hesitant to touch the child, stared blankly, her eyes wide. Carter gently lifted the baby from the basket and propped it on his lap, still swaddled in blankets. Molly peered deeper into the basket and pulled out two papers. The first, a handwritten note that read “Please keep her safe. I couldn’t anymore.” The other was a birth certificate that informed Molly and Carter that their new daughter’s birth name was Virginia Dahlia, and that she had been born nearly two months ago at Ellis Harbor Children’s Hospital — not in Briarwood. The names of the mother and father on the certificate were Molly Tamra Kaditz and Carter Allen Beckett.
The Becketts raised Virginia as their own, and little Genevieve was thrilled to have a new live doll to dress up and tell her secrets to, knowing the baby wouldn’t tell anyone. Unlike most sisters, however, Genevieve and Virginia never truly grew apart. Sure, there were spats over a stolen bracelet or who would get the last piece of Molly’s famous chocolate pecan pie, but underneath it all, despite their age difference, they were each other’s closest confidantes.
Second in line for this position was Genevieve’s longtime best friend, Charlotte Grace. Charlotte was born a few short months after Genevieve to Moira and Harold Grace, a couple of brunette hotel owners who somehow produced two redheaded babies: Charlotte and her brother, a fourteen year old boy named Aaron. Aaron’s hair color was a bit closer to their parents, being a very dull copper red color. Charlotte’s, however, was like the center of a fire. Sleek, shiny, and bright.
The Grace family moved from France to Briarwood four years after Aaron was born. Moira and Harold saw an opportunity to open up another one of their famed hotels — the Chamberlain, after Moira’s maiden name — in Briarwood.
The Chamberlain was built on the grounds of the Rosewater Wellness Center, a mental institution on the outskirts of Briarwood that had been shut down and was scheduled for demolition. Building from the basement up, in a matter of months the Rosewater Wellness Center became the Chamberlain Resort and Spa. It was Briarwood’s only tourist attraction, being the nicest hotel for many towns in any direction.
The Graces were the wealthiest family in Briarwood and thus lived in the largest house in Briarwood, a few miles away from Livingsday Terrace. At the very edge of the town, they resided in a white brick mansion with a guest house, a four car garage, and an indoor pool. They owned a total of 10 acres.
Charlotte and Genevieve met when they were 8 years old. Charlotte accused Genevieve of stealing her favorite pearl earrings — both of which she was still wearing — and Genevieve told the school guidance counselor that Charlotte was spreading rumors about her. This argument was quickly dissolved by their teacher, Ms. Hastings. Genevieve started crying when she was called into her teacher’s room during recess. Charlotte was already there, awaiting her arrival. When the two girls saw each other, they had both started screaming.
“Ms. Hastings, she stole my favorite earrings! My daddy brought them back to me from Africa! They’re real pearls, do you know how hard it is to find real pearls? I know it was Genevieve, she took them, I know she did!” Charlotte whined, throwing her hands around for added effect.
“Ms. Hastings I didn’t steal them, I promise! Charlotte’s been telling the whole class that I’m a thief but I’m not! I didn’t take anything! No one will sit with me at lunch anymore because they’re afraid I’ll take their things too,” Genevieve cried over Charlotte.
Once their teacher was able to quiet the two shrieking girls, she calmly took a breath, adjusted her thick glasses on her nose, and asked, “Charlotte, dear, are these the earrings you’re looking for?” Ms. Hastings walked around her desk and tucked a lock of fiery red hair behind Charlotte’s dainty ear, revealing a sparkling pearl earring. Charlotte lifted a hand to her ear and felt the smoothness of the stone against her fingers.
She giggled nervously. “There they are!”
Genevieve started crying quietly in the seat next to her.
“Genevieve, it’ll be okay, honey. We’ll make sure the whole class knows you’re not going to steal anything. And Charlotte,” Ms. Hastings turned back to her, “it’s not very nice to spread rumors. I know it’s very hard moving to a new school, but this isn’t a good way to make friends. In fact, why don’t you girls stay in here with me for the rest of recess? It’ll be fun. You two can get to know each other.”
In that remaining twenty minutes of recess, Charlotte and Genevieve bonded over their love of dogs and glitter and their wishes to be princesses. Once the whole class returned back to the classroom, chattering about the events of their time outside, Charlotte stood up on a chair and proclaimed to her peers, “Genevieve didn’t steal my earrings. She’s not a thief.” The whole class cheered because that was just what 8 year olds did.
Over the next ten years, the girls’ topics of conversation had morphed from puppies, glitter, and princesses, to boys, gossip, and parental complaints. No matter what, they had always been there for each other. When Genevieve suddenly had a baby sister in the house, she knew she could count on Charlotte to give her the attention her parents suddenly weren’t. Similarly, Charlotte knew she could always turn to Genevieve when she was having boy problems.
