Slowly, as if reaching to touch a snake, Juliet took the photos. She walked slowly to the window and held them up to the light. Mia watched her, stayed silent. Juliet went tight as a rubber band, but she didn’t turn. She said over her shoulder, her voice not quite steady, “Where were these photos taken?”

“Seven years ago at a fraternity rave on my campus, Godwyn University in Pennsylvania. My best friend is the girl in that photo. She disappeared after that party. We all think she was roofied, and I think those two men were responsible. Of course we have to accept she’s dead. Her name was Serena and she was my best friend. She was also a big gamer, like Kent. I imagine he used that to get her trust. I think he and Alex drove all the way from Boston to that fraternity rave at Godwyn because they knew there’d be lots of prey and they wouldn’t be recognized. So many students there, graduate students as well, so they wouldn’t stick out, they’d fit right in. The hand reaching toward Serena’s glass—look at it, Juliet—that’s Alex’s hand, isn’t it? After they roofied her, they set a fire in the kitchen because something went wrong and they had to get her out of there without anyone noticing.”

“No! That would mean they killed her—no!”

It was now or never. Mia stared Juliet right in the eye.

“You broke off the engagement because you realized something wasn’t right, with Alex, or with Kent, right? Did you overhear something they said about women, about sex, did you see something that frightened you, disgusted you? You didn’t know what to do so you did the only thing you could do—you broke off the engagement. You let everyone believe it was mutual because you didn’t want to cause a scandal. Did you ever even tell Pamela why you broke it off?”

Mia studied Juliet’s white face, added quietly, “We never found Serena, of course, because they buried her after they’d killed her. I wonder when they started that fine sport. As teenagers at Bennington Prep? Probably, and they got away with it. They were smart enough and rich enough to travel as far as they needed to. I wonder if any other girls they roofied have died?”

Juliet Ash Calley stood motionless, her back to the bow window in the opulent living room that screamed old money, excellent manners, and good breeding. Her hands were fisted at her sides, and she was staring into space to a point beyond Mia’s left shoulder.