But then I remember the rules of the game. The last time we ignored them, Claus took Linnea. Who knows what he’ll do this time?

“Will do,” I say.

Frank heads off to the restaurant. Thank goodness he’s not going to come say hi. I don’t even want to think about him seeing the room.

That’s going to happen tomorrow anyway, but we’re safe for now.

I know better than to burn my fingers on that one.

It’s like all the cogs inside my head start turning at once.

That’s it.

Fire.

Linnea

“Why are you lying to me?” Claus paces the room. “If you do that, I’ll have to hurt you again.”

My head feels like there are a thousand needles jabbing into it. I turn my face even more away from him.

Why did that Isolde ever get involved with him? He is seriously disturbed.

“You have no idea how hard it was to arrange all this. I needed a room on the same floor as yours—and it costs a fortune! So you’re not going to spoil this for me. You hear me? Those so-called friends of yours need to be punished, if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Why?” I stammer. “Why are you doing this?”

“Someone has to.” Claus is still pacing up and down. “They murdered her.”

I shake my head. “It was suicide.”

“Is that right? If a gang of people breaks you down until you can see no other way out, is that suicide?”

I think about the diary.

“But she hated you too.”

I can tell right away that I’ve gone too far. Claus falls silent. And then there’s a huge bang. The champagne bottle has smashed into the wall beside the window. Pieces of glass fly everywhere, and a puddle of champagne spreads over the carpet.

“I loved her!” Claus shrieks. “More than that Fender ever did.”

I cringe. I can’t stand up to him again. It’s way too dangerous.

“He didn’t deserve her.” Claus wipes the bubbles of spit from his mouth. “He murdered her.”

“How…how did you get her diary?”

I have to keep Claus talking. It won’t be long before he realizes he can’t imprison me here forever. And who knows what he’ll do to me then?

Claus straightens his back. “There was a memorial service at her house. I walked right in. I think her mom and dad were really happy to have someone there who said he was a friend of hers. While her brother was giving a speech, I went to Isolde’s room. Her diary was still under her pillow.”

He stole from her bedroom while her family was mourning. What kind of person does that?