Jennifer Cambridge was the type of girl who seemed to live in another world; one that was completely above about eighty per cent of the human population. She never looked at you directly in the eye if she didn’t think you were worthy of her presence and if she did it was for a fleeting glance of contempt and disgust. She never spoke to you, and if she did it was only to make some cutting comment that made you want to curl up into a ball and wish for the ground to open up and swallow you.
She was beautifully cold and utterly compelling.
The remaining twenty per cent of the population that she actually did offer the time of day to, were for other socialites, people like her, lost in a haze of beauty and money. She had these two girls that would follow her around like dogs, clamouring for attention and praise. Tamara Stone and Isabella Porcetti were her groupies, her worshippers. Although it was painfully obvious Jennifer saw Isabella as competition. The Porcetti’s were a rich Italian family that had moved to Doveton a little over a year ago and Isabella carried the natural Italian beauty in her blood. Healthy, thick hair the colour of mahogany, olive skin and wide dark eyes earned her the valuable companionship of Jennifer and the respected position of ‘Queen Bee in command.’
I know how pathetic this all sounds, trust me. I’m just trying to paint you the image of a shallow, self-absorbed bitch that cared for nobody but herself before I can continue with the story, so you’ll understand why I had to do what I did.
Why I had to kill her.