Welcome to the beautiful Ravencrest Academy.

No one is an addict.

No one is angry.

No one is a liar.

You didn’t see the bottle of pills in that student’s pocket.

You didn’t see broken bottles of liquor in the alleyway beside the academy.

And it doesn’t matter if one of us is dying, because no one is a killer at Ravencrest Academy.

My name is Luna Dawn. I lived in Toronto, Ontario, before coming to Ravencrest Academy in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, on a football scholarship. I might seem like the ideal student: homework turned in early, straight As, taking every extra credit opportunity and extracurricular offered. I’m a girl who has a bright future and shoots for the stars. But who am I beyond this? I don’t know who I am when I am not studying, when I am not diving into a task, homework, or an essay for extra credit. Who am I between the projects and assignments?

My name is Luna Dawn, but everyone calls me Moonie. I used to live in Toronto, Ontario, broke as hell at sixteen years old. My bipolar mom left me one day, and god knows where she is now. This year, I was offered a scholarship to Ravencrest Academy in Nowhere, Tennessee, where you get to wake up at disgusting o’clock for practice while trying to turn a blind side to the cluster of pills on your roommate’s bedside table. I do like the smell of rain and the fizzing sound Alka-Seltzer pills make when you drop them in water. It’s a quiet explosion, like the rest of my life. Blowing up right in front of you. And yet. And yet I persist. Like a hungry mosquito. Maybe that’s why, in my first year at Ravencrest, I managed to solve a murder.