Until Ben’s strong hands grab mine, pull me forward into his arms. The flashlight lands on the floor with a thump, rolling off to the far wall, casting us in spooky relief.

“You scared me,” I say, trying to sound exasperated. Cool. Not terrified.

I extricate myself from his arms, though not too forcefully. I’m still Ben’s girlfriend, after all. Or pretending to be until I figure out a new way to save myself.

In the askew dome of light, shadows creep over half of Ben’s face, rendering him a new person. One I’ve never seen. But I’m sure Natalie did, right before she died.

Every atom of my body is electric, panic blowing up every sense I have while also focusing me down to a single point. One feeling. Pure white terror.

“Our friends have been blowing up your phone,” he says, tone so sharp it could cut glass.

“Oh, have they?” I try to play it cool, but Ben is past pretending.

“You know about the mascot thing.”

I swallow hard. “It wasn’t you on the field that night.”

“No,” he replies matter-of-factly, almost glib.

“But you were at the school.”

“Yes.”

And there it is. Ben’s eyes rake over my face, flickering in the half-light with an emotion I’m not expecting.

Hope.

“This whole thing was you,” I say, pushing awe into my tone in place of disgust. If I flatter his ego, get him to let his guard down, will he let me go?

“It got out of hand. Everything after. You were an unexpected surprise.”

“I wasn’t supposed to find the body, like in my grandmother’s book?”

“God, no. I wouldn’t do that to you, Cecelia. When you walked in, and then I heard you scream? I felt awful. Putting you through that.”

He’s painfully sincere. Disarming, even.

“Why did you do it?”

Ben sneers. Gestures around. “Isn’t it obvious?” He pauses, sweeps his gaze across the room with a frown. “I haven’t been in here since it happened. If I had a therapist, they’d be proud. I think this is a breakthrough.”

Ben takes my hands in his. My skin crawls. “Thanks to you. My muse.”

I could vomit. Instead, I clasp his hands tighter. So hard I hope it hurts. “How could you do it, though? Such a brutal murder. Especially if Natalie was merely collateral damage. Picked because you wanted to punish her dad. For your mom?”

It’s a guess, one that Ben confirms with a nod.

“It wasn’t that bad. I injected her with insulin, so she went into shock. Made it easier for us both. She didn’t even know what was happening.”

“But the coroner didn’t find any needle marks.”