Gabe bristles. “I’m here to practice. Not exploit a murder victim with disgusting pageantry.” With that, he scans the crowd in judgment. His eyes catch on me, and I could swear he’s disappointed. I flush in shame.

“Everyone, everyone!” Ben cuts in. “Just a bit of local color!”

“Hey, Gabe…Coach wants you. Hurry up!” Another football player appears at the top of the stairs. I recognize Puck-nay-Caleb from lunch yesterday, his jovial grin oblivious to the tension below.

“Thank you, Gabriel, for your help,” Ben says. “We’re good now. Right?” The air is thick with discomfort, but then an understanding passes between the boys, peace reached for now. Gabriel gives a tight nod before scaling the stairs after his teammate.

Ben and Luke have already recovered, back to their easy grins. “Shall we all go see what you paid for?” Luke dares us impishly. We sweep inside. We’re at the pool, I realize. I came in through the gym the last time, so I didn’t recognize the entrance from the lawn. Though it’s hard to recognize as it is. The towering ceilings and LED lights render the lanes too bright. And there’s a haze—is that a smoke machine? Then…Morgan screams.

“No, don’t, please!” she cries, emerging from the locker room in a white linen tank dress. Luke wrenches her by the shoulders, forces her to the edge of the deck.

“If I can’t have you, no one can!” Luke apes Marlon Brando, all but bellowing “Stella!” He gives her a shove into the glimmering blue of the pool, and she smashes the pristine surface.

Morgan jerks and flails, her body half submerged in the water as Luke restrains her. And that’s when I realize what I am watching. They’re staging Cassidy’s murder.

Disgusting pageantry, Gabriel had said.

Holy fuck.

I peer around the fringes of the audience to see Morgan turn her head to the side on the water’s surface, drawing a gulping breath. Then with one last jerk, she goes still. My breath hitches, my heart speeding to a gallop. Dead body, dead body, my mind screams as Luke pushes her prone form fully into the center of the pool. Gracefully, Morgan turns in the water onto her back, a bit of creative license, so she can, you know, breathe. And there she floats, limbs spread-eagled, her flaxen hair floating about her head like seaweed. I think of the line from Killer Queen that’s stuck in my brain like chewing gum:

…the swirl of blond locks that fanned out from Cassidy’s head like a halo.