“Could somebody please fill me in?” the sheriff says, holstering his gun and unsnapping a pair of handcuffs from his belt. Deputy Shields’s gun waffles between us. Ben, then me. Me, then Ben.

I point weakly in Ben’s direction. “He killed Natalie.”

“She’s crazy!” Ben’s shouting is hoarse, his voice weak, though not his performance. He’s a master class in manipulation. “You saw her at the wake. Just went full psycho on me after we had sex. Tried to push me over. Don’t believe a word she says,” he yells.

But I have something Ben doesn’t have: friends.

“He’s been lying about his alibi,” Bronte says, backing me. “He told her he was at the game as the mascot, but told you he was with Maura Weston.”

“And how do you know what he told me, young lady?” the sheriff says.

“Dad, it doesn’t matter. He’s psycho,” Amber cuts in. “We’ve been worried about Cecelia for days.”

Gabriel nods emphatically. “I got these fucked-up texts at the dance, telling me to go down to the pool. That Cecelia was in danger. And then she pushed me into the water. They have to be from him. He wanted her to think it was me.”

“Gabriel, I’m so sorry,” I say. “For suspecting you. Ruining your jacket.” The velvet is a matted mess now.

“That’s okay. The wet look is in.” He winks at me. It’s a tiny moment of levity that almost makes me forget where I am, what’s happening. But then Ben starts whining again.

“I didn’t text anyone, I swear! And he doesn’t have an alibi.” Ben ratchets up his performance, jerking toward Gabriel. Actual tears prick his eyes, though maybe that’s from the pain. A lot of his blood has seeped into the towel now. He needs medical attention.

They’ll still have to prove it all, I realize. Everything sounds circumstantial. And Ben is a good liar.

Then I remember the key.

“There’s a key in his bedside drawer. It’s a master key to the school. Natalie’s key. You never found how she got into the building that night. You’ll find her DNA on the key, and his. And he injected her with insulin. He told me. You can exhume the body.”

“That’s not true!” Ben protests. “She’s lost her mind!”

But the sheriff considers me. It may be my word against Ben’s until further notice, but right now it’s enough. Sheriff Morrow snaps the cuffs on him.

And for the first time all night, I can breathe.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE