"Our new favorite thriller." – COSMOPOLITAN A glitzy YA thriller set in New York City elite social circles, filled with backstabbing and blackmail, twisty secrets, and a dead body, from New York Times bestselling author of They Wish They Were Us . At Excelsior Prep, the Legacy Ball isn’t just a fancy party—it’s a formal welcome to the ultra-exclusive Legacy Club, a vast social network of NYC’s wealthiest. For Bernie and her boyfriend Skyler, it’s a given they’re in. Isobel, forever in Bernie’s shadow, is destined for membership too. But then there’s the surprise invite: Tori, the scholarship kid from Queens. The night meant to usher these teens into the ranks of the elite is filled with endless luxe and plenty of hushed gossip. No one expects their secrets to come out. Or for someone to die trying to keep them hidden. "Biting class commentary interspersed among its tale of murder and teens behaving badly."– PASTE Magazine "A skillfully executed thriller with a decadent setting that fans of the genre will adore." — Kirkus Reviews "Thrilling and unputdownable. These dimensional, expertly crafted characters will sear into your mind and leave a mark long after you’ve turned the last page. This is Jessica Goodman’s best work yet."— Diana Urban, bestselling author of Under the Surface "Glitz and glamour mixed with drama and deceit." — Geek Girl Authority "Biting class commentary interspersed among its tale of murder and teens behaving badly. "— Paste Magazine "Sharp and snappy dialogue; a fleshed-out, intersectionally diverse cast; and thought-provoking interrogations of classism elevate this adrenaline-packed read." —Publishers Weekly "A riveting read of drama and betrayals." — Young Adult Books Central Jessica Goodman is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of The Meadowbrook Murders, The Counselors , The Legacies , They’ll Never Catch Us, and They Wish They Were Us. She is the former op-ed editor at Cosmopolitan magazine. Her work has also been published in Marie Claire , Entertainment Weekly , The Cut , and Glamour . Follow Jessica on Instagram @jessicagoodman. after the ball The Legacy Ball had never ended in a murder-obviously. Usually, the seniors from New York's elite institutions capped off the night by watching the sunrise at some elaborate after-party. An all-nighter at a mansion in Bronxville. A beach bonfire at a sprawling estate in Southampton. A strobe-lit rave in a Ridgewood loft. This year, the nominees were supposed to be whisked away in a fleet of Suburbans heading to someone's country manor in the Hudson Valley. But that's out of the question now, with the body and all. Bernie Kaplan stands on the corner of Sixty-First Street in glittering four-inch stilettos and a silk pleated gown, Skyler Hawkins's tuxedo jacket hanging off her shoulders, even though it's warm for September. If you look closely enough, you can see she's trying not to shiver. A light breeze whips at the diamond drops dangling from her ears. The sirens from the cop cars wail, and Bernie glances down at her pale pink manicured fingers, now flecked with blood and dirt. Her bright red hair is messy, out of place. Her mother usually whispers for her to tuck back the flyaways before onlookers can snap photos, but Esther Kaplan is nowhere to be found, so Bernie lets them go free. Bernie's eyes move to the curb as the rest of the attendees of the Legacy Ball spill onto the street to see the commotion. She wishes Tori were by her side. A week ago, that girl was no one. A scholarship senior from Queens who had stayed in the background for three whole years. Now, it's obvious that all of the Legacies underestimated her. Bernie opens her mouth as if to say something but snaps it shut when the whispers around her erupt in to frantic, excited chatter. The wondering, the gasps, as police roll a stretcher away from the side entrance of the Legacy Club, away from the Ball. The body's on it, covered by a white sheet. An outline of lifeless fingers, legs, arms. The medics push the corpse in to an ambulance and shut the door. It speeds north. The commotion gets louder. People are screaming and sobbing, drowning out the crackling voices coming in over walkie-talkies. Bernie longs for Isobel, what they had lost. For Skyler, too. For what he represented. But she can't think about them right now. Because in this moment, there are questions. So many questions. And no one seems to have the answers. All anyone knows for certain is that as the clock strikes midnight, a member of one of New York City's oldest, most exclusive institutions is dead, and that Bernie Kaplan is the one with blood on her hands. Four Days Before the Ball Bernie "Isn't it weird?" Isobel asks, her voice lilting. "To see all these strangers here, at our school? At Excelsior Prep?" We're standing together at the entrance of our high school's cafeteria, though cafeteria isn't really the right wo