The Agathas: ‘Part Agatha Christie, part Veronica Mars, and completely entertaining.’ Karen M. McManus

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Suddenly, an army of Mains clutching red Solo cups de­scends from the long steps leading down from the Castle into the lot. They all have their phones up, filming Brooke and Steve, but no one’s stepping in to stop what’s happening.

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A clever plot that kept me guessing till the end. The Agathas is an absolutely addictive read!”—June Hur, author of The Forest of Stolen Girls and The Red Palace Full of twists, mysteries, and so much heart, The Agathas will keep you up late guessing who-exactly-dunit. Perfect for readers who like their thrillers with an extra dose of fun!”—Erin A. Craig, New York Times bestselling author of House of Salt and Sorrows I can’t take it anymore. They’re all there, having fun, while I sit here alone. I deserve to be there as much as any of them. Brooke stole my boyfriend, and somehow I’m the bad guy? May is a survivor. But she doesn’t feel like one. She feels angry. And lost. And alone. Eleven months after the school shooting that killed her twin brother, May still doesn’t know why she was the only one to walk out of the band room that day. No one gets what she went through–no one saw and heard what she did. No one can possibly understand how it feels to be her. Brooke’s face flushes. She must be thinking what I’m thinking—I’ve never heard Steve speak like that before, not to anyone. Last summer, after I reappeared with no explanation, everyone was so pissed off, but Steve just ignored me—in fact, this is the longest conversation the two of us have had since the day he dumped me. He’s just not an angry guy.By the time I reach the first bend of road, though, there’s no one there, just the sound of the sea washing up against the cliffs below. I walk along Highway 1 and call her name, but I don’t get an answer.

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I pass Park’s driveway; her house is on the cliff side of the street like mine but surrounded by high gates. Her dad is an international businessman, whatever that means, and is super paranoid about everything. Kennedy and Donovan live a few minutes in the other direction from where I’m heading; their houses are up in the neighborhoods in the hills on the east side of the highway. If I kept driving, I’d hit the town center, where the high school is and all the restaurants where Top Chef losers come to set up shop. The winners open their places down the coast in LA, obviously. It sits on the ocean side of Highway 1, with a veranda that has a gigantic outdoor pool and sweeping views of the Pacific Ocean. The public is only allowed in certain rooms of the Cas­tle, but because of the various parties over the years I’ve seen it all—and it’s literally insane. Like, tall, stained-glass windows, an ornate indoor pool with mermaid fountains that spit water, and more bedrooms than I can count.The dangerous city of Ketterdam is governed by the Merchant Council, but in reality, large sectors of the city are given over to gangs who run the gambling dens and brothels. The underworld's rising star is 17-year-old Kaz Brekker, known as Dirtyhands for his brutal amorality. Kaz walks with chronic pain from an old injury, but that doesn't stop him from utterly destroying any rivals. When a councilman offers him an unimaginable reward to rescue a kidnapped foreign chemist—30 million kruge!—Kaz knows just the team he needs to assemble. There's Inej, an itinerant acrobat captured by slavers and sold to a brothel, now a spy for Kaz; the Grisha Nina, with the magical ability to calm and heal; Matthias the zealot, hunter of Grishas and caught in a hopeless spiral of love and vengeance with Nina; Wylan, the privileged boy with an engineer's skills; and Jesper, a sharpshooter who keeps flirting with Wylan. Bardugo broadens the universe she created in the Grisha Trilogy, sending her protagonists around countries that resemble post-Renaissance northern Europe, where technology develops in concert with the magic that's both coveted and despised. It’s a highly successful venture, leaving enough open questions to cause readers to eagerly await Volume 2. As I round the corner to the front of the Castle where we always set up, I hear music but don’t see a DJ. Which means Kennedy’s dad didn’t come through with one of his clients. Park must have had a fit. I will miss the sea when I finally get me and my mom out of here. I don’t know where I’ll take us, but it has to be far from this place. Somewhere he can’t bother us ever again. Alice’s house smelled like good things. Fresh flowers, food cooking somewhere I couldn’t see, the aroma wafting through the enormous front room.