Her instincts told her to seek out Cassandra and Jane. Even though she’d only seen them a few times since she’d fled from their hometown, they were the touchstones of her childhood. The memories she held of them seemed like the only good pieces of her past: the three of them lying in a row on Valerie’s bed, flipping through Tiger Beat magazine. Making batches of dough for chocolate-chip cookies—but usually eating most of it raw out of the bowl. Grabbing a hairbrush as a microphone and leaning in close together while they sang the lyrics to Madonna’s “Holiday.”
