Erik stumbled across the patio, toward the back door. Zania watched him retreat with her nose scrunched. She appeared to have forgotten about me. I thought of her interview with Ray, how she had expressed both resentment and admiration of Brenae, but also exonerated Erik. It’s a metaphor. To her, the man in the video was a symbol alone. I wondered why Zania made excuses for Erik, when she was so quick to judge the system that made him.

“How long have you lived in L.A.?” I asked.

“Seven years,” said Zania.

“Do you like it?”

She made a face. “Not really. I didn’t want to leave London, but I didn’t want to stay with my mum there, either.”

The crew’s trip to London had changed everything for them, especially Layla and Brenae.

“London,” I said dreamily. “Do you ever go back?”

Zania scooped the water with one hand and poured it into the pool. “Last spring,” she said. “It’s changed. I grew up in a big old broken-down flat that would cost a fortune now. The crew, we stopped in Shoreditch. It’s packed with pretentious people. And their designer dogs.” A faint British accent cropped up as she talked about the past. I hadn’t heard it before.

“Must have been fun, though, traveling together.”

She snorted and looked off to the kitchen, where Layla and Erik were. Then she plunged underwater and rose out again, her hair slicked to a dark rope. Clearly not a conversation she wanted to continue. I tried another tack.

“I saw somewhere that your father used to own a club there.”

“Local bartender makes good,” she said with pride. “His place was all the rage in the nineties.”

“I love the nineties art scene there,” I gushed. “I’m crazy about its stories. I was reading that Ditchfest’s ten-year anniversary is coming up. Did you go?”

“I helped out at the kissing booth.” She seemed pleased by the question.

“You must have met some people who are really famous now.”

“Yeah.” She dropped a few names and shrugged. “Should have saved up my allowance and bought their artwork then.”

“What about that guy who organized it? James Compton? He seemed like a trip.”

She bobbed in the water. “He was all right. He wore white suits and talked posh, like he was better than everyone, but he made things happen.”

“It’s a shame he died. I never heard of anyone overdosing on ether before.”

“Well, James did,” she said shortly.

Something sensitive there. I decided to leave off my prying, and just shook my head.

“Idiotic way to go, if you ask me,” she added.

“Yeah, pretty stupid,” I echoed, and waited.

“Not that I knew the truth at the time,” Zania said. “My parents told me he had a heart attack, and I believed them.”