Page 71 of Murder on the Upper East Side

‘Oh my god,’ she sobbed. Then she hid her face in her hands and fled the room.

As Ami’s footsteps echoed down the hall, the bell rang. Class was in session.

Ms Sharma was in the room then, her lips a thin line. She was a short, curvy woman with a reputation for generosity and warmth when it came to her students, but unlike some of the teachers at Prescott, she had no fear of Madison DuPont.

‘Language,’ she said to Alex, voice stern. Then she turned to Madison. ‘Since you’ve chosen to join us for homeroom today, you will help your brother clean up. And whatever business remains unresolved here can be picked upafter school lets out. Understood?’

Uncharacteristically, Madison nodded. She and Alex stooped to help Tyler gather the remaining balloons.

Hannah cast a last glare at Madison, then turned. She needed to go find Ami.

The video, of course, went viral. It started onThe Upper Edge, then travelled to YouTube. By Friday, an edited cut set to Robyn’s ‘Dancing on My Own’ was all over socials. The clip flashed between Ami’s tear-streaked face, Alex’s beet-red flush, and Madison’s sneer. It ended with Ami running from the room, hands failing to hide her tear-streaked face, then a long shot of Alex on his knees, picking up popped balloons. The caption readShe said ‘WAH-WAH-WAH-WAH’ all the way home!

If the video hadn’t happened, ifMadisonhadn’thappened, Ami’s punishment would have likely been lifted for the night. Prom was, after all, a highly supervised school event, not a penthouse party or society gala with questionable parental oversight.

‘I won’t go either,’ Hannah promised on Friday night, curled up on Ami’s bed. She felt terrible.Beyondterrible. Snub Madison DuPont, and this is what you got.

‘You have to go. It’s your senior prom,’ Ami sniffed.

‘And spend the night watching Madison make everyone else miserable? No thank you.’

Ami straightened up, pulling a pillow to her chest. ‘You’d really do that for me? Stay home from prom?’

‘Really,’ Hannah said. Guilt surged through her. She’d decided to keep her role in Madison’s behaviour hidden from Ami, since the two sisters were barely on good terms again as it was, following the incident upstate. It had taken Ami three whole months to forgive her sister, and this time Hannah’s actions – declining a few invitations from Madison – weren’t aimed at Ami at all. Itshouldhave had nothing to do with her, but Madison went for the jugular, always.

Really, skipping Prescott prom was no huge sacrifice. If they’d still been in Pittsburgh, she’d be closing out the year with a big party with all her friends in the conference room of a three-star hotel downtown, followed by a sleepover at Jillian’s house. A sharp pang in her chest. Grace was still mad at her, and while she’d done her best to keep up with her Pittsburgh friends this year, she’d fallen behind on thegroup chat weeks ago. Juggling the social dynamics at Prescott had been overwhelming, and frankly she’d let her priorities slide the second Madison had beckoned her over to the fountain that first morning.

Batting the thought aside, she turned to Ami. ‘Prescott prom is going to be just another boring soirée at some historical venue, everyone waving around Mummy’s pearls like, “oh, this old thing” and chugging some nasty top shelf whiskey from smuggled flasks before piling into a fleet of private cars headed to someone’s penthouse.’

A small smile tugged at the corners of Ami’s lips. ‘Sounds terrible,’ she said softly.

Hannah nudged her comfortingly. ‘It will be. I promise it will be very terrible, and you’ll have two more chances to see for yourself when Madison DuPont has departed Prescott to terrorise some new institution of higher learning.’

Ami’s smile was broader. ‘Can we make nachos now, with that sharp cheddar Mom brought home from Murray’s?’

Hannah slid off her sister’s bed, then held out both hands. ‘Absolutely.’

26Saturday, 13 June 2026

4:56am

For a long moment after the door to the MacAllister Room clicked shut next door, Hannah and Theo sat frozen on the closet floor, not daring to say a word. When they’d waited long enough to be sure Bash and Elle were gone, Hannah softly cleared her throat. It felt scratchy and dry, maybe from dust, although her surroundings looked pristine. Maybe it was Theo’s spicy cologne.

‘He as good as confessed.’ Her voice was barely more than a whisper, even though there was no chance of being overheard. ‘I vowed that this time, I wouldn’t let Madison win?He wasn’t going to let himself be blackmailed.’

‘Which is all that means.’ Theo straightened up, then stepped out of the closet. He tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck, then crossed to the mahogany desk, a smaller version of the one being used by the detectives in the corner suite. Above ithung an oil portrait of someone named Henrick Douglas II, presumably the room’s namesake. ‘Bash wasn’t going to endorse Winslow. It doesn’t mean he killed Mads.’

Hannah followed him into the room, stretching out her arms, then gently twisting her back. Christ, she felt old. ‘You think Bash intended to let Madison destroy his company?’

Theo shook his head, then sank into the leather desk chair. ‘Madison’s threat was hollow, and Bash knew it. She couldn’t take Beaumont Capital down while keeping her husband’s name clean.’

Hannah mulled this over. ‘Maybe. But not a lot got past Madison.’

‘Sure, okay. Let’s say she’d figured out a way to keep Winslow out of it. Once she raked Beaumont through the mud, why would Bash stay quiet about Winslow’s insider trading?’

‘Right…’ she said slowly. ‘It would have backfired on her.’

‘Exactly. She didn’t have any real leverage. And Bash had no reason to kill her.’