The Trespassers - Softcover

Alvarez, Jennifer Lynn

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0593900618 ISBN 13: 9780593900611

Verlag: Random House Children's Books, 2025

Inhaltsangabe

A house party spirals into murder in this taut thriller laced with icy suspense and devastating secrets.

“It’s hard to say what’s more terrifying, the darkness of the surrounding wilderness, or the darkness that lies inside even the most normal-seeming people.”—Ginny Myers Sain, author of Dark and Shallow Lies

In the frozen wilderness of Alaska, Finley, Mya, River, and Eli were inseparable—until tragedy shattered their bond and drove Finley away. Now it’s senior year, and she’s back, hoping to reclaim the friendships she lost. But when Mya throws a house party on a snowy night, Finley realizes the group isn’t what it used to be. And maybe they never were.
Then a stranger crashes the party. Then someone ends up dead. Then everything unravels.

As the four teens scramble to hide what happened, their secrets begin to surface—and the lies they tell each other might be the most dangerous of all. How far will they go to protect each other? And who’s worth saving?

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Jennifer Lynn Alvarez earned her BA in English Literature from the University of California, Berkeley, and went into finance, of all things before she accomplished her childhood dream of becoming an author. Jennifer grew up in Alaska and now divides her time between Northern California and Middle Tennessee with her husband, kids, and more than her fair share of pets. The Trespassers is her 11th novel.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

ONE

Finley, now

I squeeze the throttle on my snow machine and speed across the flat, scrubby Alaskan taiga. When I find them, they will tell me the whole truth about Valentine’s Day--about what happened to Jason Walker--and then I will turn them over to the police.

Best friends aren’t always the best friends.

My blood races as I imagine Mya, Eli, and River having another secret meeting without me. I don’t trust them; maybe I never could. The trouble the four of us got into as children rushes back to me--sneaking out, cutting school, poaching salmon, and lying. The mischief ended after my dad died and Mom and I fled Alaska. Mom believes Dad’s last act scared me straight, but that’s not it. In LA, I met better people. It’s that simple. I followed the rules instead of Mya’s rules. Then I moved back.

“You ruined my life, Mya!” I scream into the wind.

And Jason Walker’s life.

As I skim the flatlands, the spindly trees blur past and the pale northern sun reflects off the snow. There’s the charred spruce Eli set fire to years ago. It’s become a landmark on River’s wilderness property. It means I’m close to the frozen pond and the fishing hut.

A wind gust tries to blow me off my seat. I slow the machine and scan the terrain. No matter what I find out about Jason, I’m in massive legal trouble. Nothing can change that now.

I gun the engine and the snow machine launches off a snowdrift and lands with a thump that tosses my body into the air. I miss the seat on my way down. Panicking, I squeeze the throttle tighter and the machine drags my legs through the snow. My shin strikes a rock and pain sizzles up my leg. Then the sled’s double runners slide onto the smooth frozen pond, propelling it faster. Ahead is a brown shape, the fishing hut.

My hands break loose and I tumble free. The snow machine veers off as I slide face down across the ice like a hockey puck.

When my body eases to a halt, I flip over, gasping for air.

Three figures stand outside the hut, their heads covered in hooded jackets--Mya, River, and Eli. Coldness engulfs me. One of the boys is carrying a hardwood bat used to bludgeon fish to death. He twirls it, and his spiked boots grip the ice as he walks toward me. The girl--Mya--has wide, rounded eyes.

“Finley!” she shouts.

I curl into a ball and cover my head. Blood drips from my leg. “Stay back,” I rasp.

“You’re the one chasing us.” Then they surround me.

My best friends.

TWO

Finley, nine weeks earlier

Whoever said you can never go home again was wrong because here I am, back in Alaska. Mom and I spent the past four years in sun-soaked Los Angeles, and when we arrived in Anchorage last week, I expected the Last Frontier to chew me up and spit me out. But no. Alaska welcomed me into her frozen arms with a fond, if vampiric, hug.

Our two-story townhome borders a nature park with walking trails and an icy lagoon. Behind it the snow-veiled Chugach Mountains scrawl across a purple sky. It’s morning, but sunrise is hours away. We moved back in the middle of winter and my last semester of high school. I left behind two favorite teachers, two great friends, and that lovely orb we call the sun. Here, daylight will rise and fall while I’m at school. I’ll see the sun on weekends, if it’s not snowing.

“You got this, Finley Dunn,” I say as I apply my lip gloss in the mirror. Soon, I’ll be face to face with my old friends Mya Green, River Madden, and Eli Kalluk, and things with them were not good when Mom and I left. We’ve kept in touch, but it’s not the same as hanging out every day. I can’t gauge their true feelings about my return. They claim they’re happy, but . . . I don’t believe it. I blow out a breath and hunt for my boots. Unable to find them, I burst into Mom’s bedroom. “I can’t find my mukluks.”

She eyeballs me while curling her hair. Mom starts her new job today, and her bathroom counter looks like a bomb went off. “We just bought them, Fin. Ouch! Let me get ready.” She sucks her finger where she burned herself on her iron.

“But have you seen them?”

Mom waves one arm. “Look at my mess. Am I the one you should be asking? I can’t believe you unpacked and organized your entire bedroom but lost your brand-new boots.”

My dad’s mother died a few months ago and left me this townhome in her will. Now Mom’s bedroom is piled with stuff Gran collected over the past eighty years. She’s right, it’s a mess.

“Never mind.” Pulling out my phone, I message my group chat with Mya, Eli, and River: How cold is it gonna be?

Bro, it’s winter, Eli writes back.

Cold, says Mya.

Message received. Don’t ask dumb questions. I slide my phone back into my pocket. River didn’t respond at all, which is not unusual. He’s never been glued to screens, but his silence worries me. My return will spark memories--not all of them good. I need to make things right with him, but I don’t think there’s anything I can say that will return us to the way we were.

The four of us met in preschool, the only kids in class who weren’t cheechakos, the Alaskan term for newcomers, or military brats from Elmendorf Air Force Base. Our parents got along, too, and our families did everything together--parties, vacations, adventures, and sleepovers. We were insular, communal, and a little bit criminal. Eli’s family grew black-market weed, River’s dad avoided paying federal taxes, Mya’s mom bribed the town council, and my family poached salmon out of the river behind our house. We were wild, but I felt safe. Protected.

It was fantastic, until my dad did what he did and Mom and I got the hell out of Alaska.

We never planned to return to Los Anchorage, but after Gran died she left me her townhome, five thousand dollars, and a 2012 Volvo. Her will states I can’t sell the house until I’m twenty-five, so here we are. If the LA struggle taught Mom and me anything, it’s that you don’t pass up free housing.

I tread downstairs, pack my lunch, and message the group: Who wants a homemade skinny hazelnut latte? Kill them with kindness, I think.

Your California is showing, Mya writes back.

“Wait until you see me,” I mutter. I spent every dime I earned in LA erasing the old Finley Dunn--new clothes, trendy makeup, teeth-whitening strips, latest phone model, orthodontics, and hair treatments. I was full feral when I left Alaska, and while no one in LA bullied me to my face, I heard the whispers: Are those Wranglers? Do they sell hairbrushes in Alaska? Did she live outside? By the time I entered high school, feral Finn was dead and I had two new best friends, Olivia and Imani.

My phone pings. I want a latte, writes Eli. As a kid he would eat literally anything. It’s comforting to know he hasn’t changed even though I have.

Still no response from River. Is he upset about my return or just being a dude? Stomach gurgling, I craft two lattes and pour them into travel mugs.

Outside the kitchen window, lighted lamp poles pierce the darkness, revealing piles of months-old brown snow. Gran used to babysit us in this house, and my friends and I pretended to be Iditarod huskies, played tag between the cars, or raced across the street to explore the lagoon. Dad smoked salmon filets in the driveway with Mom hugging his waist. My chest tightens because I miss my dad. I have good memories before everything went to shit.

Mom appears downstairs....

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Random House Children's Books
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2025
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593900618
• ISBN 13: 9780593900611
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 353
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: preigu GmbH & Co. KG; mail@preigu.de; ; Lengericher Landstr. 19; Osnabrück; Niedersachsen; 49078; Deutschland