Page 24 of Murder on the Upper East Side

‘To Elle,’ Bruno said, and everyone clinked glasses.

As Hannah sipped her bubbly – the best she’d ever tasted in her admittedly limited experience with French champagne – her eyes met Madison’s, then Inez’s. The housekeeper was no fool. Madison had manipulated her into serving them alcohol with no parents present, then made her complicit, and Inez had played her part.

As had Hannah just moments ago, jumping to extract the information about Gemma’s new school from Oliver.

She sat silently for a moment, sipping champagne – just half a glass; she was due home in an hour – and wondering if she was still a pawn if she knew precisely what she was doing. Madison and Elle were self-absorbed and sometimes cruel and calculating, but they were undeniablyfascinating. Now that she’d dipped her toes in the waters of their world, she wanted to slip all the way under, despite the voice at the back of her head saying it wasn’t too late to get out of the pool.

The door clicked, startling Hannah from her thoughts. Inez had slipped out, and Madison was topping off their glasses.

‘He didn’t look at me once in seminar this week,’ Elle sniffed into her champagne. The alcohol had turned her mood, and not for the better. ‘Or in calc. He’s been slinking around like a dog with his tail between his legs, too ashamed to make eye contact. It’s pathetic.’

‘Classic guilty behaviour,’ Bruno said, taking a seat on the sofa. ‘He broke up with you because he couldn’tstomach the shame anymore. Now Gemma’s gone, and Theo’s in the doghouse where he belongs. It’s going to be the Autumn of Elle.’

Madison’s spine stiffened, an almost imperceptible movement beside Hannah, but she caught it. As did Ethan.

‘To Madison and Elle.’ He raised his glass. ‘The fiercest women at Prescott. Long may they reign.’

There was a pause, then Hannah raised her glass as well, then Ethan, then Madison and Elle.

‘ToThe Upper Edge,’ Elle added. ‘Without it, I’d still be unwittingly sharing a man with the slut of Park Ave.’ She shuddered.

‘Who runsThe Upper Edge, anyway?’ Hannah asked, setting her champagne on the floor beside her. ‘Ami’s convinced it’s a Prescott senior.’

‘Hardly a unique theory,’ Ethan sniffed. ‘The account was created in November 2013, two months into the school year.’

‘The year Elle and I were freshmen,’ Madison clarified. ‘Dear Ethan was still a middle schooler at the time, and Bruno was fighting off the Alvarado Clan in Argentina.’

Bruno smirked and tucked a stray lock of black hair behind his ear.

‘Whoever runsThe Upper Edgehas always been obsessed with us,’ Elle said. ‘It might be one of our classmates, but not necessarily. I think it’s someone from Dalton.’

Hannah narrowed her eyes. ‘Why Dalton?’

‘Dalton is Prescott’s main rival,’ Ethan said. ‘In sports, academics, prestige.’

‘Exactly,’ Elle said. ‘It’s thesecondbest co-ed prep school on the Upper East.’

‘That makes no sense,’ Madison countered. ‘The Upper Edgeknows everything about us. How would someone from Dalton get that kind of access?’

‘It makesperfectsense.’ Elle downed the rest of her champagne and placed the coupe on the table for emphasis. ‘The person runningThe Upper Edgewas probably a freshman at Dalton when they created the account. Let’s call herJane. Jane had an older sibling at Prescott, we’ll call him Harold.’

‘Harold?’ Bruno snorted.

Elle grinned. ‘Sure, why not? So let’s say Jane was jealous because she didn’t get into Prescott like her older brother. But she paid attention. She startedThe Upper Edgeas a way to air Prescott’s dirty laundry. Then people began sending in tips – that’s how Jane gets all her gossip. Harold graduated, but it didn’t matter. Jane’s DMs were always full.’

‘Interesting theory,’ Madison said. ‘But I still thinkThe Upper Edgeis one of us. Occam’s razor.’

‘Occam’swhat?’ Ethan asked.

Madison rolled her eyes. ‘Look it up, genius.’

‘Are you going to drink that?’ Bruno asked, eyeing Hannah’s half-full glass of champagne. She nudged it over to him.

She’d only had a few sips, but she was feeling lightheaded. No matter who ranThe Upper Edge,whether it was someone from Prescott or Dalton or Brearley or Spence, one thing was clear: they had the power to break hearts and dash private school dreams. Maybe it had been intentional or maybe she’d been collateral damage, butThe Upper Edgehad flattened Gemma Phipps with the force of an eighteen-wheeler.

If Hannah was going to keep hanging out with the royalty of Prescott, being a Fellow – and therefore unremarkable – wouldn’t be enough to keep her off Instagram. She would need to tread very, very carefully.

8Friday, 12 June 2026