All Fall Down (Embassy Row, Book 1)

By Ally Carter

Grace Blakely is basically yes of 3 things:

1. She isn't crazy.
2. Her mom used to be murdered.
3. sometime she's going to locate the killer and make him pay.

As definite as Grace is ready those evidence, not anyone else believes her -- so there is not any one she will be able to thoroughly belief. no longer her grandfather, a robust ambassador. now not her new neighbors, who all live to tell the tale Embassy Row. no longer Alexei, the Russian boy round the corner, who's protecting his eye on Grace for purposes she neither likes nor understands.

Everybody desires Grace to place on a beautiful gown and smile, blocking off out all her unpretty concepts. yet they can not keep watch over Grace -- not more than Grace can keep an eye on what she is aware or what she must do. Her previous has get back to seek her . . . and if she does not cease it, Grace is not the just one who gets damage. simply because on Embassy Row, the international locations of the area stand like dominoes, and one incorrect circulate could make all of them fall down.

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I simply gradual my respiring and pay attention. “I have to consult you,” a person says in Adrian. And in my brain i think chilly and rainy, like my costume is an ocean and I’m drowning inside of it. “Not now,” the second one voice spits again. a person is within the hallway. anyone is coming nearer. “This isn’t the tip of this! ” the 1st voice says. the second one guy laughs. it's a merciless sound, excessive and haunting. and i'm yes of 1 factor: i've got heard it prior to. “Of path it isn’t,” the guy says finally. “If I’m correct, then it's only starting. ” I’m unsure whilst i began shaking, yet I’m terrified they’ll listen me. I’m terrified they’ll see me. similar to whilst I overheard them in Iran. simply because if there's something I’m yes of, it really is that those are an identical voices that I heard in Iran. I push myself farther into my little nook. I’m attempting to disappear, prepared myself to develop into one with the stone and the wooden. and perhaps the palace hears me and gives you my want as the wall at the back of me begins to maneuver, pushing slowly inward as I push slowly again. It’s a closet, i feel because the blackness envelops me. I movement into it as fast as i will. The hem of my educate catches and snags as I push the door silently close at the back of me. there's nonetheless adequate gentle coming in via a crack within the door for me to determine circulation within the hallway. I shift and peek out. the ground creaks. The darkish determine outdoor spins and appears. “Who’s there? ” he asks. My respiring is so heavy I deliver a hand as much as conceal my mouth. A slice of sunshine cuts throughout my face, and the guy is so shut i will scent his cologne. He turns and appears up and down the hallway, as though someway he understands that he's no longer on my own. He stops and opens the door of the cupboard I were leaning opposed to. His shadow crosses my face. and that's while I see him — quite see him. he's not more than a foot away this time. in contrast to the Iranian basement, the palace hallway is easily lit. i'll by no means back manage to persuade myself that it was once a trick of the sunshine, a figment of my brain. No. the fellow has darkish hair speckled with grey. He wears a well-cut tux with gold cufflinks, a pricey watch, and an extended black tie. His profile is good-looking and excellent and powerful apart from the jagged scar that runs from his eyebrow to his jaw. The scar that's very actual. The scar that's completely transparent. The scar that has haunted my desires each evening because the second my mom died — from the instant the Scarred guy killed her. I press my hand opposed to my mouth and swallow the cry that's emerging in my throat. I don’t wish the Scarred guy to listen to me. to discover me. To kill me. I press myself opposed to the closet wall simply because my head is spinning and I’m afraid i would cross out. There isn’t adequate air within the closet, in my chest. There isn’t adequate air on the planet. yet there additionally isn’t time to panic. now could be the time to imagine and technique and act. now could be the time to outlive. “Grace, no! ” I pay attention my mom name. My mom would wish me to outlive. I don’t know the way lengthy I remain within the closet. A minute. An hour. A 12 months? whilst i eventually push my manner open air and retrace my steps I part anticipate to come to another social gathering.

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