“Of course,” Bronte says. Then, after a contrite sigh: “You know I’m sorry about everything. All that matters now is figuring this out together.”

“Yes!” I jump in, riding on a rush of belonging. I’m not in this alone. “The no-sound thing is a blow, but we can still see who went where.”

“You’re right,” Ben says. “Maybe we should start with right after the processional, see if there are any clues about where Luke went off to.” Ben moves to take control of the mouse, but Bronte swats him off.

I almost forget about that shit-faced little liar. Ben’s right. Forge onward. It’s also an easier time stamp to find than the fight between Natalie and her dad. We’ll work backward.

It’s like watching an old black-and-white silent film. Bronte finds us on the screen—her and Amber heading for the locker rooms, me going off in search of a restroom. A bunch of football players, including Gabriel, and cheerleaders, follow after them. Check. Then there’s Ben in his goofy Viking costume, bringing up the rear. I steal a glance at him now and find him blushing.

“Don’t worry. I think Vikings are cute,” I whisper, and give him a kiss on the cheek.

The time stamp reads 8:54. Natalie’s about to die.

We skip back, watch Natalie storming off the field. Luke runs after her; they exchange what appear to be heated words; he grabs for her hand, but she bats it away. The resolution is middling, but Luke’s stance is clear: he’s annoyed. Morgan comes into view, arms flailing—the emphatic gestures of someone screaming. Or pleading. Natalie ignores her. She’s got her phone in her hand, and something on it draws a wicked grin to her face. She strides off toward the school and the side path that will take her to the pool.

Morgan, meanwhile, deflates. I imagine her deciding in that moment to go deface the dress. She squares her shoulders and marches into the athletic center. Luke, on the other hand, heads off camera, toward the school.

And then Gabriel exits the athletic center and also heads toward the school. The police must have watched this. That’s Luke and Gabriel, each without an alibi, heading in the same direction as the victim. I chance a peek to away from the screen to see if Bronte is thinking that, too. If she does, her poker face reveals nothing.

I return to the video. I don’t know why Morgan was so scared. The reel proves she was where she said she was.

“Okay, let’s back up and find the fight between Natalie and her dad,” Ben suggests.