A Study in Charlotte (Charlotte Holmes, #1)

by Brittany Cavallaro

THE FIRST TIME I MET HER WAS AT THE TAIL END OF ONE OF those endless weekday nights you could only have at a school like Sherringford.

city center that had no fewer than four cupcake shops and not one decent place to get a curry.

All this is just to give you an understanding of how, that September, I could have struck a match and happily watched Sherringford burn.

Truth be told, I liked that blurriness. That line where reality and fiction jutted up against each other.

In the background, Mrs. Dunham fussed noisily with an electric kettle. A series of mismatched mugs were lined up on the front desk. “I’m making tea,” she said unnecessarily. “So many English people. It seemed like the thing to do.” Honestly, she wasn’t far off. “Cheers,” my father and I said at the same time. Next to me, Holmes smothered a laugh. My father’s eyes lit on her,

She patted me on the shoulder and took off down the path, leaving me behind, both charmed and insulted. The side effects of hanging around Charlotte Holmes.

“It’s because you care,” she said. “About nearly everyone. It’s remarkable, really, but in this instance, it clouds your judgment. It’s why I try to avoid sentiment.”

No one in the room was looking directly at anyone else. I wondered, briefly, if anyone remembered that I was quite literally dying on the floor.