Brooke felt all her excited opening-night butterflies drop dead in the face of Shelby Kendall standing behind Molly, looking as delighted as if she’d stumbled upon a hot-oil treatment that also burned calories. “Aren’t you supposed to be off researching part one of another half-assed special report that will never have a part two?” Brooke asked. “Brooke, give it up,” Shelby said. “We know.” Brooke noticed then that Molly was staring emptily at the wall. Shelby snatched something from Molly’s grasp that was rolled up so tightly Brooke couldn’t tell at first what it was. Brooke went cold. No way. No. It can’t be. Not tonight. Slowly, she unrolled the magazine. Molly never looked up from her seat. “This is not what it looks like,” Brooke said. “Molly, it isn’t, I swear.” “Just like a Berlin,”
