"No . . ." Emma answered slowly, resting her hands on the front of her dark wash A.P.C. jeans. "It was difficult to find a place over the summer, so I thought we could try something a little more . . . temporary."

"This is brilliant, mum, really." Stella wondered if it had a garden out back or one of those funny lap pools where you could swim forever and always stay in the same place. Maybe living here wouldn't be so bad after all.

BUY SLOANE SISTERS

The driver set the four Louis Vuitton suitcases on the sidewalk. Stella grabbed the handle of one of the smaller ones, ready to break down the door.

"Stella . . ." Her mom rested a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "This is Winston's town house. We're going to be staying with him for a while, here, with his daughters."

"What?" Stella spun around.

Lola pressed her hands to her freckled cheeks.

"It's a trial period," Emma continued. "We're going to take it day by day and see how we all get along. This way you can start Ashton Prep with the girls on Monday." Stella squeezed the suitcase handle tight, the leather sticky against her skin. "I think you'll like them, Stella. They're quite lovely."

Stella looked back at the house, her head spinning. There was a small gold plaque above the mailbox, engraved with the word sloane. The black metal box was filled with mail—the Sloanes' mail. She peered inside the front window. The foyer was all white marble, with a massive staircase and an ornate silk chair that looked like it had been stolen from Versailles. It was the Sloanes' foyer—their staircase, their chair. In one of the top windows a girl peered out from behind the curtain.

The house suddenly didn't seem that incredible.