Kelly Hill Read Online Free Page B

about yet.
    That meant discussing Ryan Prescott and Melody Jeffords. That meant bringing up Jefferson Williams. And that meant Kelly Hill. Everything led back to Kelly Hill.
    That meant not being able to just move on.
    Rachel Gunn was never a person to air her dirty laundry in public and she sure wasn’t going to start now. She had always lived by the belief that a person’s outwards appearance should always conceal the personal matters that lingered beneath.
    She didn’t want everyone else knowing her business, and she didn’t need to talk about it.
    Rachel made her way over to her perfectly organized closet and decided that she was in a yellow mood that day.
    Having taken several psychology courses, Rachel knew just what that meant for herself, but she didn’t mind. Everyone would look at the color and find it cheery and bright, they wouldn’t remember that it was closely associated with cowardice, impatience, and criticism.
    She pulled out a yellow and white dress with a crocheted floral pattern on it and picked out a large brimmed, white sun hat to match.
    There was more walking that she would have to do and she wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to burn.
    Rachel was one of those people cursed with far too fair of skin. It was too pale in the winter time, like an alabaster doll, and in the summertime, when others were able to turn a golden brown she burned and wilted, staying a lobster red for several weeks.
    To match the hat and sundress, Rachel grabbed her white satin heels with the bows on the backs and proceeded to pick out her jewelry.
    Of course, her signature gold watch was a part of the mix, as was the gold heart pendant her father had gotten her for her tenth birthday.
    Rachel’s eyes lingered on the jewelry that she kept away from all the rest and sighed. It was all handmade things from her mom dating back to when she was just a baby. Things that Rachel didn’t have the heart to throw out, but never really wanted to wear.
    It wasn’t that Rachel didn’t like her mom. No, she loved her mother. Always had, always would. It was just that... they were two completely different people.
    Helen DeVross lived by the philosophy of loving life and letting everything else fall where it may.
    Rachel did not share her sentiments. A fact that was rather contentious at most family gatherings.
    After Rachel was satisfied with how she was going to present herself to the world for the day, she went into her bathroom that connected to her bedroom and the hallway via two separate, locking doors.
    Technically speaking, it was a guest bathroom, open to everyone in the house, but Rachel was the only person residing on the third floor and no one ventured up there except to find her, so she always just referred to the bathroom as her own.
    Rachel started the water for her shower and let it warm up while she got undressed.
    She gingerly stepped into the shower and let the hot water pelt her body. Rachel lingered there for a moment longer than she had to, allowing herself a second of relaxation before she began her morning regimen. Showers were a ritual for her. They signified the start of a new day. They helped wash off all the painful feelings from the day before.
    It was when her hands were full of bubbles from the shampoo lathered in her hair that she heard a knock at the door.
    Rachel stopped moving and listened, thinking that maybe she misheard it. No one should be awake at this hour, Ethan and his friends had stayed up late into the night and should still be sleeping. Her father was out of town for the week and wasn’t expected back till next Thursday.
    She should virtually be alone.
    But, as if to prove her wrong, there it was again.
    A simple, polite, knock.
    “Hello?” Rachel called out; it was probably Ethan, wondering if he could eat the quiche that was slow cooking. Hoping that it wasn’t anyone else.
    For a split second, Kelly’s face flashed through her mind and she pushed the thought down.
    That was the