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PROLOGUE

IT WAS SUMMER, and Monica was everywhere again

She was there, in the supermarket, on the rack of tabloids between displays of candy and sugarless gum at the checkout counter And there, on the side of the bus kiosk And there, on the cover of the fashionshows, reco what to wear, store, or toss from your summer wardrobe She ith you in the backseat of the taxi, on the screen in front of your knees, telling you where to go, what to see, and what to buy Selling, always selling Butwas happiness

And she still looked great doing it Her skin, soft and flawless, was radiant Her cheeks resembled peaches And her hair: masses and masses of it in pure twenty-four-karat color

On June 1, like clockwork, Monica’s iner boutiques in Soho First a strip of her hair appeared, followed by the sh forehead, and then the eyes: the irises an alold hazel And then the mouth: perched on her face like a sweet strawberry surprise, lips open, s Monica was happy So very, very happy You looked at her, and suddenly you wanted to be her

Unless, of course, you were her Or had once been a version of her—in the past But now you are frazzled, beaten down, and your skin looks like crap Your eyes are bloodshot There is so sticky in your hair

Pandy looked at the top of Monica’s head and thought, Just two more days Three or four at the most She could do this She could win

She reminded herself that she had won before With Monica

Silly, char, madcap Monica; the beloved heroine of four Monica books and four Monica movies

Pandy had conjured up Monica as a child, for the entertainer sister, Hellenor Monica had hair the color of yellow olds, and she had quickly turned into their favorite creation, beco the star of a series of notebooks called Monica: A Girl’s Guide to Being a Girl

When Pandy left ho writer, naturally she figured she was leaving Monica behind

But she rong