World BeneathChapter 1 Hidden Doors
I was the girl in the back row. The one nobody ever talks to because she's weird. That had happened when I'd turned fourteen or so and been trying to figure out who and what I was supposed to be. By the time I hit sixteen I had a pretty good idea. I'd dyed my long blonde hair, turning it raven black. I'd painted my face white and decided I worshipped death. Not exactly a great idea if you live in Rochester, Minnesota, a town that had never been on the cutting edge of cultural...