How the Other Half Die

Book 1: How the Other Half

by P. C. Roscoe

Genres: YA Contemporary Romance; YA Romance

Synopsis

The White Lotus meets Gossip Girl in this steamy YA thriller set on a private Caribbean island where the ultrawealthy’s summer vacation is full of sun, sin, spice, and…murder.

The exclusive Mokani Island is Avery’s happy place. This summer, she’s invited her college roommate, Nora, to hang out in paradise and party with her superrich friends.

But the vibe feels off from the start. Avery’s ex can’t get over their split. Her best friend is acting weird. A hot new staff member can’t keep his eyes off her. And nobody likes Nora, who keeps sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.

​A tropical storm is brewing and everyone on the island seems to be hiding something—but are some secrets worth killing for?

Release date: April 7, 2026

Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

Print pages: 352

Sample

Avery thrust her hand out to grab the rail of the speedboat, bracing against the violent waves crashing against them.

“Ohmygodohmygod!” Nora cried in delight beside her, hands clutched to her chest, as if she wasn’t the one with a fear of water, just as another powerful jolt rocked Avery on her feet.

“How can you be fine on a boat and still be afraid of the water?” Avery grumbled, feeling groggy from the flight to Nassau. Nothing at all to do with the number of drinks she and Nora had shared on the private jet.

“I don’t make the rules, Aves. I just break them.” Nora grinned.

Sun prickled the haze of sea spray as the boat shot forward and Avery adjusted her sunglasses, hoping to dull the slight ache at the base of her skull.

Nora held her straw hat down against the wind as she collapsed into the seating on the speedboat, her legs folding beneath her. She held out a hand and pumped it open and closed, demanding that Avery join her.

Unable to help herself, Avery smiled and went to sit beside the girl who had been a stranger only eleven months ago.

Nora turned the power of her full attention on her, and Avery felt it like a beacon. She placed her hands on either side of Avery’s face, the slash of silver rings cool little lines against her heated cheeks.

“This is going to be the best summer,” Nora invoked like a spell. “It’s going to be everything you need and more.”

After all Avery had been through in the last year—breaking up with her boyfriend, nearly failing her first year, her exam—Nora had been there for her, without judgment. And her support had meant everything. Especially when it had filled the deafening silence left by everyone else significant in her life.

Avery looked over to where her parents sat at the back of the boat, pretending they weren’t ignoring each other, until Nora tugged repeatedly on Avery’s hand, making them both laugh, and Avery collapsed against her.

“OK, once more, just so I have this absolutely right,” Nora said, adjusting the hat, a strand of long bleach-blond hair getting caught in her soft-pink lip gloss.

Avery didn’t know why Nora had got it into her head that she needed to know everything about everyone. Avery had spent the entire year talking about her friends and the island, which was partly why she’d felt that she couldn’t not invite Nora this summer.

“So, Sydney and Archie Devereux are twins,” Nora began. “But not identical, right?”

“Not identical,” Avery confirmed. “Basically opposites. Archie’s, like, totally laid back, and Syd? Well, she’s…”

She’s what? Sydney Devereux had been her best friend for the last ten years, even though they only saw each other several times through the year. They lived in different states, so it had been tricky, but they’d made it work.

Until last year, when, for absolutely no reason Avery could think of, Sydney had ghosted her.

She knew Syd hadn’t been happy when Avery had got together with Hugo the year before. Sydney had never liked to share. But Avery and Hugo had broken up months ago. And still nothing.

“Rich, popular, intelligent and a badass.” Nora ticked off the fingers of her upheld hand.

Avery side-eyed her.

“What? I checked her out on Insta,” Nora explained with a shrug.

“OK,” Avery said with a laugh. “But yeah. Accurate.”

Nora’s head dropped, the wind whipping her long blond hair into a frenzy. Her pale skin was already flushed pink, despite her hat, and her arms glistening with the SPF 50 sunscreen she’d complained about wearing. “She’s gonna hate me,” Nora groaned.

“She’s going to love you!” Avery cried, laughing when Nora shooed her away with her hand. It was Syd’s feelings about her she wasn’t sure about.

“I know her father, of course,” Nora said, her head coming back up.

“Everyone knows Dennis Devereux,” Avery replied.

“Tech tycoon extraordinaire, billionaire several times over and household name,” she reeled off. “Husband to Carol Devereux, queen of the charity circuit and setter of all New Hampshire trends.”

“Yep, yep and yep,” Avery confirmed. She had always found Carol intimidating, instinctively shying away from a coldness about the woman. But thankfully she’d drawn neither Carol’s interest nor disdain.

“Next!” Avery commanded, playing along with the game.

“Hugo Vandenburg,” Nora said, unable to keep the scowl out of her voice.

Nora and Hugo had met once when he had come to visit Avery at college and it had been…

Nora snarled.

Disastrous.

“Adopted son of Mark and Darian Vandenburg, the gazillionaire owners of the Caribbean island we are about to spend twelve a-maz-ing days on,” Nora announced. “Captain of the lacrosse team, model good looks, studying government at Harvard and voted most likely to be president. And,” Nora stressed, “a really shit ex-boyfriend to one Avery Finch.”

Avery nodded in agreement.

It was true. Hugo had been a really shit boyfriend. But even thinking that felt like a betrayal. It hadn’t been his fault that she’d never felt the way she should have about him. And she still felt guilty for not being able to feel more. As if she’d failed somehow.

Avery had been so surprised when, a year and a half ago, her and Hugo’s New Year’s Eve kiss turned from friendly into something more. It had been… nice, flattering, fun—her head turning from the power of his attention. And while they’d been together—with the gang all around them—on the island or at various seasonal parties, it was wonderful. But when they weren’t… When it was just the two of them, it hadn’t been right. It was as if they didn’t work when the rest of the group wasn’t there.

“Avery Finch, Avery Finch, Avery Finch,” Nora mused. “Now, what can I say about Avery Finch?”

Avery groaned, half-fearful of what she might say.

“Avery Finch, daughter of financial investment powerhouse duo Annalise and Jonathan Finch, loyal to a fault, absolute softie, lover of animals and friend to all, but most importantly… college roommate to one Nora Miller: journalism major, future Pulitzer Prize winner and charming AF!”

Avery laughed, the sound eaten by the wind. “And Leo, of course. Don’t forget Leo,” she reminded Nora.

“Ahh, yes. Leo Walker, son of the island’s private chef who was rumored to have once turned down a Michelin star on principle. Gotta love a man with a strong moral code!”

“It’s all true,” Avery confirmed, looking toward the island, surprised by how much she was looking forward to seeing Leo. Even though he wasn’t from one of the families, he was their age and had always been on the island at the same time as them, so naturally they’d all come together. And while the others were often loud and brash, there was a steadiness to Leo that she’d really missed over the past year.

Throughout the last six months, she’d been thinking of him more and more. Wondering what he’d been doing, how he’d been getting on with his degree.

Nora’s gasp cut into her thoughts.

“Is that it? Is that the island?”

Avery shaded her gaze from the sun’s glare and looked to where Nora pointed. And there it was.

Mokani Island.

For two weeks before the summer started properly, and before the island’s paying guests arrived, the Finches, the Devereuxs and the Vandenburgs—friends since their own college days—would come together to celebrate Mark and Darian Vandenburg’s wedding anniversary on their private island. It was and always had been nothing short of paradise.

Two jagged cliffs faced each other from opposite ends of the horseshoe-shaped island. Lush green foliage hid the dangerous rock beneath it, but the sight was nothing short of spectacular. White sand ringed the entire island.

“This is going to be so amazing!” Nora squealed, jumping up and down, grabbing on to Avery’s arm and pulling her into Nora’s infectious excitement.

Nora was right. This was going to be amazing. Twelve days on an island so beautiful, so luxurious, only a few of the world’s wealthiest people had ever set foot on it. And this year, it was going to be the best. It had to be, she thought a little desperately, after everything that had happened over the last year.

The boat lurched as it hit the wake of another speedboat making its way toward Mokani Island. A bigger boat. Her mother wouldn’t like that.

The sun bounced off tinted windows and made her blink. She could just make out all four Devereuxs standing at the prow of the boat, laughing and joking together.

Avery looked back at where her mother perched, grim-faced and thin-lipped on the white canvas seating, as if jealousy wasn’t driving her out of her mind.

“Are you OK?” Nora asked, concerned, as if she’d noted the change in Avery’s body language. “Worried about college finding out?”

The boat swerved again and so did Avery’s stomach as she reached for the rail and missed, banging her fingers painfully against the metal.

“Nora!” Avery hissed, a furious blush stinging her cheeks, adrenaline pricking her skin. Fear.

“No one heard.” Nora dismissed her, turning back to look at the island.

Avery rubbed her hand and looked around to make sure her mother hadn’t heard.

“Aves. Don’t worry. I’m your emotional support guest, remember?” Nora teased, pulling Avery into her side with a strong, firm hug.

Avery swallowed.

If anyone found out…

Avery shook her head, wishing for the hundredth time that Nora had never discovered her passed out on the exam paper for a test that no one had taken yet. An exam paper she’d paid an exorbitant amount for.

She’d be kicked out. Her parents would never forgive her. And if the press found out… they’d have a field day. She’d be yet another rich girl trying to game the system.

And could she say she wasn’t?

“Your secret is safe with me. Pinkie promise,” Nora said, holding out her little finger for Avery to take in hers.

Letting Nora’s promise soothe the unease at the casual way she’d mentioned her cheating, Avery slipped her finger around Nora’s, feeling the press of her silver rings. They were all shapes and sizes, beautiful and different and not in the least bit expensive, but everything that Avery wanted to be. Carelessly, beautifully, chaotically wonderful. That was Nora. That’s what she was envious of.

They hit another bump and this time Nora whooped and screamed, the sound encouraging the captain to steer them into another oncoming wave. The boat flipped up, salt spray in the air, glistening in the sun. Avery laughed while her parents scowled, and maybe, Avery thought, just maybe, if she pretended, she could be careless too.

Leo pulled at the collar of his white polo shirt, feeling like a complete idiot. He might have visited his dad here every summer for the last ten years, but this was the first time he was wearing a staff uniform.

Sweat trickled down his back as he shifted uncomfortably at the end of the line of staff, all present and correct, positioned on the grassy lookout just above the marina, ready to greet the guests as they arrived by speedboat from Nassau. He clenched his jaw, feeling Sven’s piercing glare. His dad’s boss—his boss too—managed the staff with a ruthlessness that bordered on brutal.

It wasn’t what Leo had expected when his dad had messaged to ask him to come out a week earlier than he usually did. He’d been surprised. Hopeful, even. Maybe his dad was finally making time for him, instead of only giving him the brief snippets of his day between shifts. And maybe, Leo had thought, just maybe he could tell his dad about switching uni courses.

But no. Instead of any of that, he’d been handed a uniform and put on the training rotation in order to become familiar with what he’d be doing for the next six weeks: porter, KP, waiter, cleaner, whatever was needed.

You’re not a kid anymore. You want to come? You work. Just like the rest of us.

And just like that, embarrassment heated his cheeks. Not because he was angry, or afraid of hard work. But because he’d been foolish enough to think that perhaps this time, this summer, things with his dad would be different. And that was when he knew he could never tell his dad about changing his degree.

Sven inspected the staff line, looking for the single hair that was out of place. Leo was half-surprised he didn’t have a magnifying glass. On any other occasion than this, any, the staff were to be neither seen nor heard. Because after “the greet,” this first moment where they were lined up to impress, the sole purpose of the staff was to be the invisible hand behind the luxury and indulgence. The guests were to feel as if they were waited upon by magical fairies and were to know absolutely nothing of the sheer volume of work that went into creating paradise.

Oh, Leo would be paid for his work. An eye-watering amount in exchange for servitude and an NDA. Enough to have made him bite his tongue instead of telling his father to go to hell. That, and the way his mother looked at him every time she sent him off halfway around the world to spend the summer with his father, was why he was here.

His mother was proud of herself for fostering what she thought was a positive relationship for him. Pleased that Mitchel Walker would, at the very least, provide Leo with a much-needed link to a part of his heritage that she couldn’t.

She did so much for him; making their South London flat a home, raising him—despite financial challenges—to be part of an artistic and supportive community, was what gave her life. His mother had risen to every challenge that his father had failed to meet, and Leo wouldn’t let Mitchel Walker take that away from her too.

“Eyes front, Walker,” Sven snapped. One of the staff further down the line sniggered. Leo had walked a fine line over the last ten years, not only as the son of the island’s chef, but also because of his friendship with the children of the Vandenburgs, the Finches and the Devereuxs. The fact that they were all the same age had allowed their association to be tolerated by the adults for the two weeks they were on the island. And after they left, Leo had been on his own, often spending more time than not trying to stay out of the way of the island’s other guests and staff.

But now he was walking an even finer line as an employee, especially since many of his “new colleagues” had seen him in the past hanging out with the kids so rich they could topple a small country.

He’d received the piss-taking and the not-so-subtle digs about him being on the wrong side of the island with as much good humor as possible. But every time they teased him, he wrestled with it more and more.

But one thing Leo knew for sure was that whatever the staff threw at him was nothing compared to what Archie and Hugo would do when they found out he was working here this year.

The piercing midday sun glinted off the two sleek speedboats cutting white lines into a crystal-blue sea as they neared the island’s marina—a single wooden jetty reaching out from the highest point of the crescent, purposefully placed so as not to mar the beautiful white curve of the island’s sandy bay.

It was the only way on and off the island. By sea. There were, of course, two helicopter pads. One for guests and one up at what everyone on the island unaffectionately called the Big House.

A sprawling mansion that far outstripped the four guest villas dotted around the island, the Big House had nine en suite bedrooms, three living areas (each with a different name), three separate kitchens, four terraces, one Olympic-sized pool, two saunas, two plunge pools, three different steam rooms, one massage parlor, a hot tub half the size of a tennis court, an actual tennis court, a chapel, laundry services and private staff quarters.

In between the Big House and the rest of the island was the annex, which was essentially a tricked-out media center with a private cinema, game room with billiards, even a bowling lane and several table tennis tables. It also had a private pool that started in the building and continued outside into an infinity pool surrounded by a lawn, manicured to within an inch of its life, that angled down toward the lower part of the island.

Leo knew all this because the staff were made to memorize the entire property brochure in case any of the guests ever needed a reminder of how much the Vandenburgs’ wealth more than tripled their own.

“We’re on, ladies and gents,” Sven warned in a sotto voce delivery that still managed to travel down the length of the twenty-person line, all gleaming in their brilliant-white uniforms. The amount of money spent on bleach was—no pun intended—eye-watering.

But perfection was what Darian and Mark Vandenburg expected, and perfection was what they’d get. Working on Mokani, as had been drummed into Leo time and time again over the last week, was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Having it on your résumé meant trust, discretion and unwavering loyalty. A glowing reference from Mokani meant you could work anywhere, no questions asked.

And if you messed up? They wouldn’t find your body.

Probably because of the bleach.

The whirring of a high-speed golf cart came down the track, bringing Mark, Darian and Hugo Vandenburg to the jetty. They did this for every single guest. A near aggressive display of personal “service” that started as it meant to go on.

Someone new to the island might be surprised by the petals in the pools in their villa, the champagne on ice, the caviar, the gifts of exquisite jewelry, fruit and chocolates in their bedrooms and on their terrace. They were certainly unlikely to expect the unobtrusive staff member on hand in their villa twenty-four hours a day.

But the Finches and the Devereuxs weren’t new to the island, and they knew exactly what they were coming to the island for.

“Is the tennis guy not here?” Corrine whispered to Leo from the side of her mouth, her French accent tart in comparison to the lyrical lilt of the majority of the staff, most of whom had come from the mainland or nearby islands.

“He’s part of the big reveal at dinner tonight,” Leo whispered back, having heard his father and Sven talking about the special guest, an Australian tennis star, earlier.

Leo watched the Vandenburgs exit their golf cart and was unsurprised that Hugo hadn’t noticed him standing among the uniformed staff lined up behind them. The wind ruffled the thick blond waves of Hugo’s hair, the pink of his shirt pitched like an advert for the Hamptons or Martha’s Vineyard. Not that Leo had ever visited those places. Outside of his trips here, Leo rarely got farther from South London than the Watford Gap.

Darian slapped a hand across Hugo’s back just as the deckhands finished tying off the speedboats, allowing the Finches and Devereuxs to disembark. They greeted each other on the jetty with smiles and cries of delight that sounded strained to Leo’s ears.

His gaze quickly cataloged the people he would be on hand to serve for the next twelve days.

Even from here, he could see the awkwardness between Hugo and Avery and he ruthlessly pushed down the relief he felt at not having to see them together like last year.

After a moment, Hugo shook hands with Dennis and Carol Devereux and then Annalise and Jonathan Finch. Behind him Archie laughed at something and his sister, Sydney, glared at everyone around her.

Annalise and Jonathan were greeted by Mark, but Leo was distracted by the sight of Avery, arm in arm with a blonde in a straw hat who looked like she’d just won the lottery. Pretty, without a doubt, but his gaze locked on Avery.

Long dark-brown hair reached toward her waist in soft layers. A pair of cutoff jean shorts hit mid-thigh, showing off toned legs. And once again he was slammed with a knockout jolt of wanting that had punched him, hard and fast, for the first time two years ago. Something he’d thought he could just shake off. Until he’d realized it wasn’t that easy.

The group was nearing the golf carts, lined up in front of the staff.

A laugh cut through the air as Avery’s friend’s hat was blown from her head and she chased after it, distracting Annalise, who looked irritated as she tried to speak to Darian. And that was when Avery looked up.

He saw the moment she realized he was there, lined up with the others. The blink. The beginning of a smile. Her hand rising as if she were going to wave…

She’d seen him. She’d been happy to see him.

And then her hand dropped, and one of the staff laughed again.

He clenched his jaw.

“But why?” Annalise’s question pierced the moment, her objection clear.

“Oh, didn’t Mark tell you?” Darian explained. “We’re having some work done on Luna, so we’ve had to put you in Coastal. I hope that’s OK.”

Before she could reply, Darian turned to the Devereuxs. “We’ve made some changes to Solar since you were last here, and I cannot wait for you to see them,” he said, ushering Carol Devereux toward the golf cart as Dennis and the twins followed.

Annalise was left open-mouthed staring after them.

It was a snub. All the staff that had heard it knew it. And she knew it too.

Annalise closed her mouth and went to the golf cart Sven directed her toward, while Jonathan and Avery Finch tried to ignore the awkwardness.

Leo felt the brush of Avery’s gaze on his as he forced his attention straight ahead, ignoring how it felt to be on the other side of the island. Things were going to be different this year, that was for sure.

Avery winced at yet another squeal of delight from Nora, knowing it would grate on her mother’s already frayed nerves. Annalise Finch was intolerant at the best of times, and this was not the best of times.

“Nora,” Avery whined as she heard her mother pacing around the living room.

“Sorry. It’s just that this place is so good I could die!” Nora said, hanging off the doorframe of the en suite of the room they were sharing, before going to touch up her makeup.

Tapping her finger against her thigh, Avery crept out into the hallway.

“They know,” her mother whisper-hissed.

“They don’t know,” her father insisted.

“Why else would we have been downgraded like this, huh?” her mother demanded. “Coastal is much smaller than Tidal. That’s empty. So why can’t we stay there? And my daughter, forced to share a room?”

“This is a downgrade?” Nora whispered from beside her, nearly giving Avery a heart attack.

“Jesus, Jonathan, this is a disaster,” her mother pressed on. “How are we going to get them to give us what we need, when they’re already not taking us seriously?”

Nora left her side and bounced onto the bed, eyebrow raised.

“Are the ’rents gonna be OK?”

“If they can keep it together,” Avery replied, throwing herself onto the bed beside Nora. She stared up at the ceiling, where a rattan fan spun in circles that made her dizzy. Nora’s hand slipped into hers and the sounds of her parents’ argument. . .