The #1 New York Times bestseller! It’s the Salem Witch Trials meets Mean Girls in this New York Times bestselling novel from one of the descendants of Cotton Mather, where the trials of high school start to feel like a modern-day witch hunt for a teen with all the wrong connections to Salem’s past. Salem, Massachusetts, is the site of the infamous witch trials and the new home of Samantha Mather. Recently transplanted from New York City, Sam and her stepmother are not exactly welcomed with open arms. Sam is the descendant of Cotton Mather, one of the men responsible for those trials—and almost immediately, she becomes the enemy of a group of girls who call themselves the Descendants. And guess who their ancestors were? If dealing with that weren’t enough, Sam also comes face to face with a real, live (well, technically dead) ghost. A handsome, angry ghost who wants Sam to stop touching his stuff. But soon Sam discovers she is at the center of a centuries-old curse affecting anyone with ties to the trials. Sam must come to terms with the ghost and find a way to work with the Descendants to stop a deadly cycle that has been going on since the first accused witch was hanged. If any town should have learned its lesson, it’s Salem. But history may be about to repeat itself. “It’s like  Mean Girls  meets history class in the best possible way.” — Seventeen Magazine “Mather shines a light on the lessons the Salem Witch Trials can teach us about modern-day bullying—and what we can do about it.” — Bustle “Strikes a careful balance of creepy, fun, and thoughtful.” — NPR   I am utterly addicted to Mather’s electric debut .  It keeps you on the edge of your seat, twisting and turning with ghosts, witches, an ancient curse, and—sigh—romance. It’s beautiful. Haunting. The characters are vivid and real.  I. Could. Not. Put. It. Down.”  — Jennifer Niven, bestselling author of All the Bright Places A New York Public Library Best Book for Teens, 2016 “It’s like  Mean Girls  meets history class in the best possible way.” — Seventeen Magazine “Mather shines a light on the lessons the Salem Witch Trials can teach us about modern-day bullying—and what we can do about it.” — Bustle “Strikes a careful balance of creepy, fun, and thoughtful.” — NPR   I am utterly addicted to Mather’s electric debut .  It keeps you on the edge of your seat, twisting and turning with ghosts, witches, an ancient curse, and—sigh—romance. It’s beautiful. Haunting. The characters are vivid and real.  I. Could. Not. Put. It. Down.”  — Jennifer Niven, bestselling author of All the Bright Places “[A]n entertaining story that draws intriguing parallels between the 17th-century trials and modern-day bullying” ― Publishers Weekly "Mather delivers a timely condemnation of bullying and the politics of mass hysteria, while still completely charming her readers with large doses of suspense and steamy attraction." — Shelf Awareness Adriana Mather is the 12th generation of Mathers in America, with family roots stretching back to the first Thanksgiving, the Salem Witch Trials, the Revolutionary War, and the Titanic. Adriana co-owns Zombot Pictures, a production company that makes feature films. In addition to producing, Adriana is also an actress. She lives in Los Angeles where she has a life full of awesome, cats, and coffee. Follow Adriana on Twitter, @AdrianaMather. Chapter One Too Confident Like most fast-­talking, opinionated New Yorkers, I have an affinity for sarcasm. At fifteen, though, it’s hard to convince anyone that sarcasm’s a cultural thing and not a bad attitude. Especially when your stepmother can’t drive, ’cause she’s also from New York, and spills your coffee with maniacal brake pounding. I wipe a dribble of hazelnut latte off my chin. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I love wearing my coffee.” Vivian keeps her hand poised over the horn, like a cat waiting to pounce. “All your clothes have holes in them. Coffee isn’t your problem.” If it’s possible for someone to never have an awkward moment, socially or otherwise, then that someone is my stepmother. When I was little, I admired her ability to charm roomfuls of people. Maybe I thought it would rub off on me—­an idea I’ve since given up on. She’s perfectly put together in a way I’ll never be, and my vegan leather jacket and torn black jeans drive her crazy. So now I just take joy in wearing them to her dinner parties. Gotta have something, right? “My problem is, I don’t know when I’ll see my dad,” I say, staring out at the well-­worn New England homes, with their widow’s walks and dark shutters. Vivian’s lips tighten. “We’ve been through this a hundred times. They’ll transfer him to Mass General sometime this week.” “Which is still an hour from Salem.” This is the sentence I’ve repeated since I found out three weeks ago that we had to sell our New York apartment, the apartment I’ve spent my entire life in. “Would you rather live in New York