Disclaimer: Today I am going to make a confession that literally hammers a stake into my dreams of ever owning a book series like Private. Well. Here goes. I do not own PRIVATE.

Author's Note: I sincerely don't know how much longer this fic will be, but it's definitely going to past ten chapters. Hopefully. Oh, and the usual. Thanks for reading, reviewing, etc.

The door of Noelle's room seemed to be begging to be opened. Ariana was tempted to burst in, but feared the consequences. Noelle, for all her life had been unpredictable. This Ariana knew from experience, as she and Noelle had been roommates. For instance, there were times when Noelle demanded absolute privacy, yet there were times when she would gladly flaunt her perfect body in public; although most of the time it was the latter.

Ariana knew that if she wanted to get even an inch closer to finding out who her stalker was, she was going to have to take some risks. And this was one of them. She hesitated, wondering if Noelle might still be awake, having around of 'I Never'. But no sounds emerged from the room. Ariana turned the doorknob, letting the door creak open on its own, the light from outside filling the room. Ariana half-expected Noelle to jump out of nowhere and ask her true intentions but it didn't happen. Hands shaking, Ariana flicked on the lights. The room was empty. Then Ariana realized that Billings House was a little too quiet. There was no incessant chatter, laughter nor glasses clinking. Billings house was deserted. Rather than feeling relieved, Ariana was worried. Where were they? Had they all been kidnapped for a ransom of 20 million dollars each? They were all rich, after all; with the exception of Reed, of course.

Ariana took up her phone and texted Noelle.

Whr r u?

She got a reply that was full of spelling mistakes.

Partyind io thf wnndz. Dhd wd 4get 2 ynvyt u aryane?

Clearly, someone was drunk. Ariana could barely make out what Noelle was trying to say. Although she seemed to be saying they were partying in the woods. Ariana knew that it was now or never. The key was easy enough to find, it was just hanging there. Ariana caught sight of Noelle's table. It was as messy as always. But something about it roused Ariana's suspicions. She pawed through the clutter and finally pulled out her fleur-de-lis. What was it doing among Noelle's disorderly archive of precious metals and stones?

Did Noelle steal it? Why would she? Noelle had enough pocket change to buy a whole jewelry store. Besides, she didn't need any more jewelry. The jewelry she already had was well enough to clutter up her table. Ariana took the fleur-de-lis and went back to her room. From her cupboard, she pulled out a wooden trunk. She opened it and was greeted by her countless notebooks. She took them out and stacked them out on the floor. A ribbon stuck out from the bottom of the chest. She pulled the ribbon and revealed a sleek black laptop underneath. Ariana took out the laptop. There was another box. It was padlocked shut and Ariana struggled to remember where she had put the key. It had to be there, somewhere.

She finally found it in one of the notebooks. She opened the box. Inside was a small dagger. The hilt was made of brass, and ornate designs were engraved onto it, Three sapphire studs, as blue as the sky were embedded into the brass. The brass not bronze, but a shiny yellow, as it had been coated in a layer of gold. Ariana had been saving it for a special occasion, the occasion being the murder of Reed Brennan. Unlike Reed, the dagger had not exactly been cheap.

Ariana was dying to plunge the dagger into Reed's heart. The third murder's the charm, she supposed. She would stab the unsuspecting Reed as payback for stalking her.

In… two… three

Out… two… three

Okay, she was ready. Ariana slipped on a black tank top and leggings as she grabbed the knife and the key. Her heart thumped and her legs grew weary of walking even though Bradwell was only about a five minute walk from Billings. The night's shadows camouflaged her as she entered Bradwell. She strained to hear if anyone was up. She was not really in the mood to talk to any Bradwell girls nor their immature, naïve psycho of a house mother Ms. Ling.

No sounds emerged from the rooms. After all, it was two in the morning. Only the Billings girls and Ketlar boys would be up this early—partying, perhaps. Just as they were reportedly doing that night. Suddenly, Ariana heard voices from the third room along the corridor. From beneath the door she could see that the lights were on. Intrigued, Ariana pressed herself against the door.

"Looks like you found your phone, Amberley," a voice said. Ariana recognized the voice. It was Cassielle.

"I found it yesterday. Well, two days ago. More or less. I've forgotten," Amberley admitted. Ariana did remember Amberley mentioning that she lost her phone. Then it could have been Amberley that was stalking her.

"You seem anxious," Cassielle commented.

"I'm expecting someone," Amberley explained. Ariana wondered how Amberley might fit into the picture. Did Amberley hate Reed enough to breach the walls of Billings not once, but twice, to vandalise Reed's walls? Did Amberley hate Ariana enough to plant those crib sheets? A glimmer of light shone from Ariana's phone. She had gotten a text form Noelle, who apparently was still a little tipsy.

U npt cmnig?

Ignoring the text, Ariana looked for the text that she had gotten from her stalker. She pressed the call button and the number was immediately dialed. From inside the room there was a ring as Amberley took the call.

"Hello? Hello? Anyone there?" Amberley's voice rang through the receiver. Ariana ended the call. 'If Amberley would just disappear, would anyone notice? If I kill her tonight, I'm sure both our problems would en.,'

Luckily enough for Amberley, Ariana snapped out of it. She could not believe she was thinking these thoughts again. Murder was wrong. 'But what about manslaughter?'

Ariana bit her lip. 'Why do you keep thinking these things? You barely know the girl. Don't make another mistake. Just. Let. It. Go.' Ariana forced herself to think. Why was she being bombarded by these thoughts? Were they her own?

In… two… three

Out… two… three

In… two… three

Ariana's breaths of anxiety were halted by footsteps. How many people were there? Five? Six? Ariana turned to run. Too late.

Standing before her was a tall, sophisticated figure, with striking blond hair that rested on her shoulders. Her big eyes stared, shocked, into Ariana's blue eyes but she quickly recovered from this shock.

"What are you doing here, Ariana? Looking for someone to kill?" Cheyenne asked. Ariana felt her jaw clenched as she restrained herself from physically striking Cheyenne.

"No, I came to visit Cassielle. Cheyenne looked mortified although she knew Ariana was lying.

"You're lying. Besides, you don't have the authority to give out Billings invites," Cheyenne scoffed.

"Well then, Cheyenne," Ariana said. "Oops, sorry. Lady Cheyenne, did I mention that you, Trey and the art cemetery look good together?

"You don't have to be such a bi—oh, forget it. Why am I talking to a psycho murderer anyway?" Cheyenne asked with a small smirk. Insulted, Ariana gave Cheyenne a shove before exiting the joint and tearing her way through the shadows of the night. Ariana's forehead glistened with sweat. This was disgusting. Ariana simply hated sweat.

Back at Billings, after taking a nice, long, shower, Ariana decided that there was no point in sleeping. It was already five in the morning. The others had come in while she was having her shower.

Ariana couldn't help but feel envious of Cheyenne. Cheyenne had someone who loved her. Ariana did not. The one Ariana had loved had been killed by that redheaded wretch Reed. But there was probably a silver lining under that cloud. Ariana was about to kill him anyway. So perhaps it was a good thing that Reed had killed him instead. Ariana would never have been able to handle the guilt. Reed was the real criminal here. Reed killed Thomas, not her. Reed blackmailed her into submission. Why hadn't she been able to think straight before?

"Okay, Ariana," she told herself. "This is Reed's fault, not yours. Don't let her mistakes screw up your life,"

Cheyenne burst into the room, looking as if she was being chased by a two-headed Reed. Ariana attempted to visualise the monstrosity. Her two heads of hair would be tangled and matted. Her eyes would be a bright yellow streaked with a blood red hue. She would be dressed in the most slovenly of ways and she would be snatching away other girls' betrothed.

"What's up?" Ariana asked casually.

"Cromwell is holding some last minute morning services. Something is up," Cheyenne muttered. Suddenly a loud, long shriek emerged from the walls of Bradwell. Ariana wondered what it could be. There was only one way to find out, And that was by asking the all-knowing Noelle.

Ariana rushed to the Billings common room, where everyone was just about to leave. Ariana could see their eyes were rimmed with black from staying up all night, although most of it was cleverly concealed by their expensive cosmetics.

Noelle, of all people, was devastated.

"Not again. Not again," Noelle seemed to whine. Well, that would be an understatement, as Noelle seemed close to a nervous breakdown.

"What 'not again'?" Ariana asked, having much concern but showing little of it ti Noelle's mental health, After all, breakdowns weren't all that rare in their world.

"Noelle, what happened?" Ariana prompted. Ariana got no reply. Noelle merely shook her head and sobbed. Never in her life had Ariana seen Noelle so depressed. She looked depressed enough to upset someone who had just struck the lottery.

Ariana's gaze turned to the others, all of whom were as quiet and unnerved as Noelle, but to a lesser extent.

"What? Did someone die?" Ariana asked, hoping to rouse some smiles or at least smirks. She got none.

"That's exactly it, Ariana," Reed said quietly. "Murder, in fact. A Bradwell girl got stabbed to death,"

Ariana sped off to her room. She sat on her bed, shocked. They were going through this all over again. The suspicions. The interrogations. The reporters. The pesky paparazzi. Stalkerazzi, as Noelle would call it. The void of fear that could never be filled. Ariana ran her ethereal fingers across her bedcovers, expecting to feel her dagger there. She needed it. She just needed to hold it in her grip, and she would feel secure. But it was not there. It was gone.

She froze. It was all happening again. She was going to be framed for something that she did not do. She would be accused of tarnishing Easton's reputation, when it was someone else who committed the crime. Easton would never be her home again. Easton was supposed to be a safe place. But it wasn't. Once again, at Easton, there had been a murder.