Chapter 1 The Vanishing of Victorine "I have prepared a series of photoplay lessons for the beginner, which I have endeavored to make as simple as possible." --How to Write for the "Movies" (1915), by Louella O. Parsons It is a truth only rarely acknowledged that most people of the age of twelve or thirteen travel this world in some degree of disguise: their insides and their outsides do not always exactly match. The girl now traveling through life as Bella Mae Goodwin had learned this lesson very well. She had had to leave behind the name she was most accustomed to in order to escape from villains and the system that kept young, orphaned heiresses in constant peril. For now we can call her Vee, as her friend Darleen liked to do. Vee and her dear friend Darleen were both at this very moment in disguise, trying their best to look like two absolutely ordinary girls of twelve or thirteen, out buying tickets for today''s absolutely ordinary moving picture matinee. It was quite an adventure to be in disguise, actually: to be pushing toward the theater in a crowd that paid no attention to the two of them at all, dressed up as they were in simple sailor dresses, their hair unpretentious in brown waves (Vee) or ordinary-little-girl braids (Darleen).

The man who sold the tickets did give Darleen a wink and a tip of the cap and start to say something about how pleased he was to see her here again, Miss Darleen--but she shook her head at him and put a finger to her lips, and he hushed right up like a good fellow. He had recognized her, you see: Darleen Darling, star of the photoplays, known to the world as Daring Darleen. But today Darleen was simply here, like everyone else, to watch the new picture, while remaining pleasantly incognito. Vee did not enjoy disguises quite as much as her friend did, and yet she had already managed to accumulate a number of names and aliases over the past year or so, despite being the sort of person who would really prefer to have one solid name--to be one single, solid, consistent sort of person. At the moment, Vee was digging some dimes out of a secret pocket, of which (pockets, not dimes) she had an exceedingly great number, since it is practical and convenient (as her Grandmama had always reminded her) to be able to carry the various necessities of life with you, wherever you go. She had coins tucked into one pocket, her trusty pocketknife (inherited from her father) hidden in a second, and an excellent book she had begun to study waiting for her in yet a third. Oh, and a roll of butterscotch candies! She never traveled far without a bit of butterscotch at hand, in case of emergencies. Because , as her Grandmama used to say, you never know what may happen in this world.

Vee knew all too well how true that was. Things had happened in her world--many things--and as a result here she was, in layer upon layer of disguise, all secrets and hidden pockets, when it was the longing of her heart to be simply and openly herself, whoever that was. "There we go!" she said, putting the necessary number of dimes on the counter. "And that makes two for The Vanishing of Victorine , Episode Thirteen," said the ticket man, and he handed over the little tickets. "Enjoy the picture, my dears! I hear there''s plenty of excitement for the poor Berryman heiress this time ''round. Maybe even a touch of romance!" "Oh, dear-- romance ," said Vee, and she said that so forlornly that Darleen really couldn''t help laughing. "Now, now!" said Darleen, squeezing her friend''s hand. "It''s just a picture.

You know that. All make-believe!" "Enjoy the show, girls," said the ticket man, and the eager crowd had already pushed the girls in through the doors. They nabbed two seats and waited for the darkness to fall, for the clattering whir of the projector to start up, and for the pianist to begin his accompaniment with a few stirring chords. The piano, by the way, was quite out of tune. In a former life, Vee--the girl with too many pockets--had lived in a world where a man came regularly to tune the mansion''s pianoforte. But that was all quite long ago already. That home and that piano were truly, as they say, lost in the past. As soon as the title of the serial appeared-- THE VANISHING OF VICTORINE --Vee felt the usual glow of awkwardness and shame creep up from her cheeks to the tips of her ears.

Thirteen episodes in, and it still felt so strange every time she saw those words! Darleen gave her friend''s hand an understanding squeeze and then whispered into Vee''s glowing ear, "But it''s funny, Vee, isn''t it, when you think about it? Here I am, watching a photoplay with someone who is famous for having disappeared!" Oh, Vee did see the irony of the situation, of course. But it didn''t make her want to laugh. It made her feel most peculiar inside. Here''s the thing: once upon a time, she herself had been Victorine Berryman. And then--alas!--Victorine Berryman had had to vanish .