The more she searched, the angrier she became. For the life of her, she couldn’t find one of her boosting bags, and she badly needed to. She was officially done with Pharaoh, and was sure that everyone knew it by now, so she had a point to make. She needed to be the flyest girl in the party, and she couldn’t wear anything she’d been seen in before. Her life had changed for the better, and she wanted to look like it. Now . . . She put her hands on her hips. Where are my bags? She had shopping to do—things she needed to “pick up.” She knew it was risky after Meka had gotten caught, but what else could she do? She screamed at the top of her lungs, stomped her feet, and gave in to her hissy fit. “What is it?” Craig bounded through her door. “Everything all right?” Santana looked at him with spoiled-girl tears in her eyes. “My purses are gone! My Louis, Gucci, Chanel, Prada . . . gone. What am I going to . . .” “I threw them away.” “. . . do now? I have a party to go to.”
