Prologue

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Dorothy Wilson was just fine. Of course she was, she was the daughter of the only survivor of the Kerris case, she didn’t have room to not be fine. Dorothy was fine, so was Charlotte, Jill and Arther, but poor poor Anna wasn’t.
  Poor Anna Hollis was the only survivor.
  Poor Anna Hollis was attacked.
  Poor Anna Hollis was the star of the small town of Merricks.
  Dorothy, Charlotte and Jill weren’t the daughters of Arther Wilson, they were the daughters of Anna Hollis. Anna Hollis alone. Anna Hollis this, Anna Hollis that, Anna Hollis.
  Dorothy was sick of it. She didn’t feel like she was the daughter of either of the two. She didn’t like her parents, her name or even her life, but that didn’t matter because Anna did. Forgotten by the world in favour of her mother, she was only ever an accessory to her.
  Charlotte tried her best to please their parents and still be there for Dorothy. Because while Charlotte didn’t always understand, she tried. She tried and tried and Dorothy respected her for it more than anyone else. Charlotte was always there for Dorothy. Charlotte was the one who helped Dorothy reinvent herself the summer of 23’  by helping her come into own and giving her a new name to go by, Thea.
  Thea Wilson wasn’t the daughter of Anna and Arther Wilson, no more than Dorothy was. Thea Wilson was a force. She did what she felt like, ignoring all and any pressure she felt from the town to be a mini Anna, because Thea was no Anna. Anna was sweet and friendly, and Thea was not. Thea was her own.
  And, while the summer of 23’ was a life changer, it wouldn’t be until the summer of 24’ that it truly did change things for Thea.
  Thea was going to go to summer camp with Charlotte and Jill.
  A summer camp that was the same as the one her mother had survived.
  And it would be Anna who sent them.
  Was this a joke?

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