Free The Pretty Ones by Ania Ahlborn Page A

suddenly every Rambert & Bertram employee was left to sit at home, wide-eyed while watching the news, wondering if they were next.
    But Lamont’s insistence to carry on with the day didn’t make working easy. Nell sat at her desk, wooden, hardly able to get a thing done between her racing thoughts and coworkers occasionally pausing to murmur quiet sympathies about Linnie’s sudden passing. Nell had made a scene with her open weeping. One minute, she had been an outsider looking in. The next, she was the center of attention, as though she had been the one left for dead and humiliated in an alley littered with trash.
    Poor, poor Linnie.
    It was just after lunch that a shadow loomed over Nell’s left shoulder. Nell turned to glance behind her, and there was Mary Ann Thomas, with her eyes narrowed into accusatory slits. Nell stared at her for a beat, then offered the blonde an unsure, wavering greeting.
    â€œH-hey, Mary Ann.” Nell produced a pathetic smile, one that read: I’m sad about Linnie, but still happy to see you . One that made her look like a “trouper,” plodding through the day despite her broken heart.
    But Mary Ann wasn’t having any of it. Her glare only intensified.
    â€œIs . . .” Nell stammered. “Is everything okay?”
    That was when Mary Ann took a couple of steps forward. Her pretty pink manicure gripped the back of Nell’s office chair as she leaned forward, as if to rest her chin on Nell’s shoulder before cooing in her ear. But there were no sweet nothings here. Mary Ann hissed instead: “I don’t know what you’re up to, Sweaty , but you aren’t fooling anyone.”
    â€œWhat?” Nell stared at Rambert & Bertram’s It Girl. Blinked a few times for good measure. Tried not to narrow her own eyes in response to Mary Ann’s hideous insult, let alone at what Mary Ann was implying.
    â€œYou weren’t friends with Linnie,” Mary Ann said flatly. “Everybody knows that. You aren’t friends with anyone, so if you think you can just—”
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nell cut her off midsentence. Mary Ann’s expression became even more incredulous, but Nell didn’t let Mary Ann voice her continued suspicion. “Not like you would know. You’re so concerned with yourself, it’s a wonder you know anything about anyone.” Mary Ann’s eyes went wide. How dare a troll speak to a princess in such a way? But Nell didn’t dare take it back. Stick to your guns, she thought. If you drop it now, you’ll look guiltier than ever. Not only will you be the laughingstock of the entire office, but maybe Mary Ann will call the cops and tell them you lied this morning. Then they’ll come to question you, because what kind of girl does something like that?
    Nell shifted in her seat and turned back to her typewriter, her eyes fixed on the mug of pencils at the corner of her desk. The yellow smiley face grinned at her.
    Have a nice day!
    â€œHave a nice day,” she murmured to the bitch just beyond her shoulder. A moment later, she heard Mary Ann Thomas stomp toward the break room without so much as another word.
    Except that Mary Ann’s departure didn’t do much to ease the anxiety that was blooming like a dahlia within the cavity of Nell’s chest. She didn’t have to wonder whether Barrett had really done it. She hadn’t ever been so sure of anything in all her life. And she didn’t wonder why either. That was just as obvious to her as Barrett’s guilt. But she did wonder when .
    Had it been Friday night, when he had left her alone to sulk in the apartment? Had it been Saturday, when she had slept her throbbing headache—and the day—away? Or maybe it had been Sunday, when she had spent what felt like minutes but turned out to be hours sitting in Barrett’s wingback chair, thumbing through an old