Page 8 of Murder on the Upper East Side

‘In here!’ someone shouted from the direction of the lounge. ‘Help!’

There was a surge of movement, and Hannah followed the others through the wide arch towards the commotion.

A woman’s voice shouted, ‘Everyone, stay back!’

Hannah pushed forward. ‘Excuse me,’ she murmured, shouldering her way through the crowd. All around, people jostled for a better view, or retreated, stunned looks on their faces.

‘I think she’s…’

‘Is there a medic?’

‘Goddamnit, where are our phones?’

When Hannah reached the front of the crowd, the sight before her knocked the air from her lungs.

In the corridor leading from the lounge to the restrooms, Madison DuPont lay on the dark, ornate carpet, soft peach silk billowing out around her. Her eyes had rolled back in her head, and a thin trail of vomit ran from the corner of her mouth, down her chin. One pale arm lay outstretched, her fingertips pointing towards the empty martini glass that had rolled, just slightly, out of her grasp.

There was no need for a medic.

Madison DuPont was very, very dead.

9 September 2016

Instagram

Image series: Prescott Academy senior Gemma Phipps, dressed in lingerie and posing seductively for the camera. Reflected in the mirror behind her is the photographer, seen at an angle and face largely obscured by the phone he’s holding. It’s clear only that he’s wearing glasses, a Prescott blazer and matching cufflinks.

TheUpperEdgeThink you can help me solve a little mystery? Looks like one of our own had a devilishly fun summer break, and I’ve got the pictures to prove it. But who’s that behind the phone, taking the kind of photos you don’t send home to Mummy and Daddy?

@PrescottPeachWhat. A. Sluuuut.

@BrunoPlutoClassic smut from the slut of Park Ave.

@Alice_in_the_City@EllesBells Have you seen this? Is that THEO?

@EllesBells@Alice_in_the_City STFU you’re out of your mind

@CarinRutherfordUm. Theo Fitzgerald, much?

@Oliver_hates_olivesomg omg omg

39 September 2016

Lunch at Prescott – to be eaten in Pembroke Dining Hall during the winter and on the lovely stone courtyard behind the school when the weather was nice – was nevernota minefield. The invisible yet intractable seating chart was adhered to rigidly; food choices were scrutinised; mingling among tables was permissibleonlywhen the seniors stood first.

It had taken Hannah three whole days to get a handle on the rules. Which were subsequently shattered to smithereens the first Friday of the school year, whenThe Upper Edgeleaked six photos of Gemma Phipps flaunting her ample cleavage and perfectly round ass, only minimally concealed behind a plunging scalloped bra and red lace thong and suspenders set.

The photos had obviously been meant to be private, intended, presumably, for the boy holding Gemma’s phone, enjoying the lusciousness of Gemma Phipps in the flesh. But thensomeonehad found an envelope of prints somewhere in the Kingsley Room during that first day of senior seminar. (And why even printphotos anymore, you may ask? Poor Gemma had clearly hoped to avoid the risk of those very photos appearing on the screens of all 253 of her Prescott Academy classmates… and their parents… and the rest of New York.) But when the envelope slipped from her brand-new Jacquemus bag (the large Bambino, in custom bubblegum pink) – or when someone plucked it from beneath the bag’s flap – that same someone photographed what they’d found and sent the shots toThe Upper Edge. And then private was public, and the gloves were off.

What a slut

Prescott Twat: Title of her sex tape lol

New money does love a photo op, ew

The comments weren’t limited to Instagram. Prescott Academy had been quick to judge Gemma Phipps from the moment she stepped through the heavy oak doors as a freshman – anouveaufreshman, her parents’ fortune made this century in smart home tech – and her penchant for provocative clothing and full, pink lips had quickly earned her a reputation as the slut of Park Ave, never mind that Gemma had never been known to actually so much as make out with a single boy, or girl, at Prescott.

The teachers had done their best that morning – Hannah had seen Mr Harris speaking reassuringly to Gemma after senior seminar, and later she’d spotted Ms Briar, their AP Bio teacher, with her arm around Gemma’s shoulders in the hall – but by the end of third period, Gemma Phipps had slunk home.