By Meg Cabot
The place are you able to cover whilst we all know your identify? The 3rd and ultimate booklet the NYT bestselling trilogy. Emerson Watts is at the run: from college, from paintings, from her kin, from her neighbors, from herself. With everybody she loves livid together with her for whatever she cannot clarify, and not anything however the stay Stark Angel style convey on New Year's Eve to appear ahead to, Em's reached the top of her rope. . .what's the purpose of even occurring? but if she discovers the reality approximately Nikki's mystery, she is aware there is just one individual she will be able to flip to. Emerson Watts is at the run: from university, from paintings, from her relatives, from her pals, from herself. With all people she loves livid along with her for whatever she cannot clarify, and not anything however the stay Stark Angel style express on New Year's Eve to seem ahead to, Em's reached the tip of her rope. . .what's the purpose of even happening? but if she discovers the reality approximately Nikki's mystery, she understands there is just one individual she will be able to flip to. Will Christopher be capable to set aside his own emotions and aid her divulge her supplier to the realm? Is it even reasonable to get Christopher involved--since if he has the same opinion, there is each probability that Stark organizations will try and have them either killed--this time, completely? probably it might be higher for Em to only keep it up operating.
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Additional resources for Runaway (Airhead, Book 3)
I don’t know what you mean,” I said. “Convincing,” Steven said. “But spill now while we have five minutes alone together for once. You’re not in love with Brandon Stark. What’s going on, Em? ” Whatever she knows about Stark Quark, if it’s worth killing Nikki Howard for— and then giving her a brain transplant to keep her image alive— it’s worth knowing. Believe me. And I want in, Brandon had whispered to me that cold gray morning back in New York, just a week ago. Why should I help you? I’d demanded.
I had to flatten myself against the wall in order not to get knocked down as she hurried off after Brandon, her heels making a huge racket on the shiny marble floor. “Brandon,” she cried, racing after him. “Wait! ” I wanted to remind her not to go outside or the paparazzi might get a shot of her, but it was too late. She was already gone. Cosabella, who’d followed me from my room, rushed down the stairs after Nikki, her claws skittering on the slick floor. She gave a few excited barks and then, when Nikki slammed the front door in her face, gave herself a good shake and came trotting back into the living room, looking proud of herself for a job well done.
And you’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t stop putting yourself down. ” But Nikki wouldn’t look up. She was too busy crying into her statement necklace. Because Nikki wouldn’t look up, I did. What I saw was my own reflection…the reflection Nikki used to have. Perfect. Not a feature, not even a hair, out of place. Exactly what you would expect to see on the cover of a magazine or modeling an expensive dress or piece of jewelry in an ad. Telling you what to buy or where to go or what was hot now.