Tick, tick, tick.

Forty minutes had passed since Chief Parker dragged me into the police station though to the rest of the officers, it appeared that I was there of my own free will. He seized my phone from my jacket before leaving me alone in the small interrogation room: blank concrete walls with a cold metal table, three uncomfortable chairs plucked from Hell itself, a two way mirror, and a table lamp that shined brightly on my face.

A camera was positioned high in the left corner of the room and the sweltering heat led me to imagine that it was able to track my every movement. I only knew how long I had been sitting there because of the ominously ticking clock above the door. Each second seemed to take longer than the previous one and I slowly began to lose my mind.

It was forty minutes of tense silence, leaving me to my own thoughts. Elena was sprawled on the floor, with Belmont pinning one arm behind her back. He was the reason that she had not jumped Chief Parker in the police car, with the intent of gouging out his eyes. Belmont refused to release his grip until she promised to not attack Chief Parker the moment he entered the interrogation room. Her responses—"Mrmph"—were muffled by the carpet but knowing Elena's tendency to hold a grudge, she would likely never forgive him.

Just as the second hand on the clock passed over the twelve, Chief Parker and Garren entered the room, looking like complete opposites as the three of us made eye contact. Garren managed a weak smile but his fingers drumming against the back of the clipboard like a version of morse code revealed his true nerves.

Sitting across from me, Chief Parker lowered the lamp, allowing me to see for the first time since I was taken into the room.

"We have a lot to discuss, Tessa. Officer Garren is here to assist me. He'll be writing down your responses so we can review it all later," he explained as Garren walked over to the third chair, briefly glancing at Elena and Belmont.

"Where are my parents?" I asked, squeezing the edge of my chair.

"On their way," he said simply, opening a manilla folder. "It's just a few questions, nothing more. You made the call to the station about what happened to Connor Mitchell, didn't you?"

"Yes. I was heading over to Will's house to check on Katie. She's been really upset since the accident and some kids have been bullying her," I answered, praying for my parents to come in to save me. "That's when I heard weird noises inside the house. It sounded like a fight."

He kept his eyes on the folder. "And then you found him at the bottom of the stairs. How did that happen?"

"I guess he was pushed by that guy I saw in his office," I replied. "Where—"

"You're certain that he was pushed?" he asked, doubtfully.

The further we went into this interrogation, the sooner I realized that it was all a sham. Chief Parker was asking increasingly obscure questions, such as the exact time I called into the police station and if Mr. Mitchell's injuries matched the injuries of someone who was pushed down a staircase. Garren had been shaking his head so much, as a warning to not say something I would later regret, that he resembled a bobblehead doll.

Having been through plenty of these interrogations, Belmont reminded me to keep my answers short. As the clock struck nine, an hour since I was brought into the station, my parents were nowhere to be found and I was certain that Chief Parker never contacted either of them.

Elena, freed from Belmont's wrestling moves, subtly retrieved my phone from Chief Parker's coat and sent a message to my mother.

"Where is he? The guy who attacked me. Are you questioning him too?" I asked as Garren wrote down my answer about Mr. Mitchell's injuries.

Chief Parker shut the folder that contained statements from the surrounding neighbors and immediate observations of the scene inside the house. He brushed off my question, muttering that the stranger, who he referred to as Jackson, was the police's problem and irrelevant to the conversation.

"He was going to shoot me," I argued, thinking it was extremely relevant. "I could've been dead if I didn't fight back. He's the one who pushed Connor."

"How are you so sure of that?" He whipped his heard around at the sound of a loud crash. "Garren, what's wrong with you?"

Garren had one hand in the air, stopping Elena from striking Chief Parker with the unplugged table lamp on the floor. He awkwardly explained that he kicked the plug while stretching his limbs, his eyes diverting to his black boots to avoid the police chief's steely glare. The moment Chief Parker turned back to me, Garren released Elena's arm and rolled the table lamp under his chair.

"You weren't there," continued Chief Parker. "You don't know that Jackson had anything to do with the accident."

"Accid—you're seriously calling this an accident?" I asked, bewildered. Belmont pinched my leg, hissing "Byrne, shut up" under his breath. "He was there to steal something in Connor's office. Connor told me that himself when I found him. I know this Jackson guy's not a model citizen but he wouldn't randomly walk into a person's house and attack them. He's not even here, is he? If you questioned him before me, his statement would be in that folder too but it's not. I bet you sneaked him through the back door so the neighbors and Angela Starr didn't see him. It helps with your lie, right?"

He raised his brow. "We haven't deemed it as anything yet, Tessa. Maybe Jackson did cause Connor Mitchell's fall down the stairs, maybe not. We won't know until we get a better look or until we hear from Mitchell himself. It's possible he was a distraction for an accomplice."

"Oh like who, me?" I asked, mockingly. "That's what you pretty much implied when you chucked me into the back of a police car. Officer Garren, you're supposed to writing all this down, aren't you? I don't see you writing,"

Garren was frozen with his pen pressed against the paper. He stared at me as if I was breathing fire and for a split second, I thought my rage could make that a reality.

"Instead of threatening to pin this on me, let's talk about how you took twenty minutes to get to Connor's house when it's five, at most, from the station. I could talk to Angela Starr about it later over lattes," I mentioned, casually. "I bet she'd have a nice spin on it...how the cops in this town don't give a damn unless you're from the wealthy crowd. A man was near death and you were sitting on your asses like nothing was wrong."

"Watch that tone of yours. You shouldn't make nasty accusations like that," he said, the vein in his temple throbbing.

"Those aren't nasty accusations. If you want to get nasty, I can bring up how you called Fin Belmont's death an accident too and didn't bother with checking the crime scene or conducting any interviews," I said, my resentment overriding my anxiety. "If you did, you would've questioned whoever was at the party or at least waited a week before tearing down the tape. Who paid you to do that? Was it the same person who's paying you now to let an attempted murderer walk free and who made you force your son to give that silly statement to trash Will?"

The entire room was deadly silent as Chief Parker and I stared each other down with mutual loathing. Garren opened his mouth to defuse the tension but he was unsure of how to handle the situation.

"S—sir, I think—"

"Quiet, Garren," Chief Parker snapped, his dark eyes on me. "Who knew she had a mouth on her? What's got you so talkative now, huh? Is it the makeover my son gave you? Or did you inherit it from your mother? It must be something that gets triggered when you turn seventeen because she was like you, a little bitch who never knew when to shut up and do what she's told."

My nails were digging so deeply into my hands that they drew blood. I wanted to smack the arrogant police chief, not caring if it sent me straight to prison.

"Don't...ever...talk about my mother like that," I hissed.

"I'll talk about her all I like," he said, sounding more like a teenager than an upstanding man of the law. "Maybe we should take a trip up to Erinyes and we'll get you your own padded room. It's only a matter of time before—"

He clutched his throat, beginning to choke on thin air. Garren stood up from his chair, no longer restraining a persistent Elena, as he coughed up blood onto the table.

Belmont pinched my leg again. "Byrne, I think you're doing this. Stop it."

Calming myself down, which proved to be difficult when I wanted to strangle him for insulting my mother, I watched Chief Parker's choking cease within seconds. He wiped away the blood with his sleeve. Garren, Belmont, and Elena were busy looking at me in fear but something else caught my attention.

Chief Parker was not the least bit concerned by his random choking fit and I caught a brief satisfied smirk flashing across his face. He assured Garren that it was nothing more than a side effect of his new kidney medication.

"Honestly, it's nothing to trouble yourself over," he said, swatting him away like a pesky fly. "I'll be—"

"You know." My voice was dangerously quiet but loud enough for both officers to hear those two words. "She was right. You know."

"Tessa, I think the heat is getting to you a bit," said Garren, stepping towards me. "Why don't we go check if your parents have arrived yet and they can take you home? I think you've answered enough questions, don't you agree, sir?"

Ignoring Garren's feeble attempt at avoiding another argument, I kept my eyes on Chief Parker's tense face. He was trying his best to remain calm yet he looked like a child who got caught stealing from the cookie jar.

"You know what I am, don't you?" I whispered. "You're working for them. That's why you took so long to get to Connor's house. You knew it was a trap for me."

"Garren's right," he said, rising from his chair. "The heat's messing with your head. You're not making any sense. Let's—"

"Stop lying. I'm not your dimwitted son or his friends that think Mountain Dew is an actual mountain. I don't know when you found out but you knew it when Fin Belmont was killed and when Will and I got in that car accident." My fists clenched under the table. "I know they live in Belmont Falls. Tell me who it is or I'll do something worse than making you choke."

Chief Parker grinned. "You've got quite the imagination, kiddo. Must be all that stress from senior year, I bet."

"I get it. You don't want to talk because you're scared. You must think they have a way of monitoring you." Seeing him squirm, I could not help but laugh. "Sorry, but it's so funny. You called my mother a bitch but really, I think it fits you better. You're the little bitch. Your head must be shoved pretty far up their ass if you're willing to let an entire town think you're an incompetent piece of trash."

What happened in the next five seconds was one giant blur. Chief Parker, possibly exhibiting secret powers of his own, had moved across the room in the blink of an eye and slammed me against the wall with enough force to make the clock shake, his hand wrapped around my throat.

Garren pulled at the burly police chief's sausage fingers. His pleas were falling on deaf ears, Chief Parker intent on crushing my windpipe.

As Belmont stopped Elena from smacking him in the back with a chair, the door burst open, followed by angry voices blending together. A short young man not much older than Garren, with the body of a stick and a long, pointed nose, was desperately trying to keep my parents from entering the room.

"C—Chief Parker, I'm sorry. I told Mr. and Mrs. Byrne to wait outside but—" He shrank under my mother's vicious gaze. "T—they were...I tried to..."

The officer was at a loss for words when he saw Chief Parker fighting off Garren with one hand while choking me with the other. My father wasted no time, punching him across the face. The blow caused Chief Parker to stumble away from the wall and Garren checked for any bruising on my throat.

"Devlin, how did—I see you got my message."

If not for my mother standing between them, my father would have thrown another punch. She calmly whispered in his ear, her fingers curled around his arm.

"We didn't get a message from you or anyone at the station. We had to hear it from a neighbor who saw Tessa getting in your car. Do your interrogations usually involve strangling an innocent child?" my father asked, pure venom in his tone.

"You should teach your girl better manners," growled Chief Parker, a bruise forming under his left eye.

"Ironic, coming from the man whose son only avoided arrest for lacking any around a girl because his father is in charge of the police department," seethed my father.

I was clueless about what he meant but Elena and Belmont, both looking surprised, seemed to have some idea. Chief Parker's lip curled and he smoothed the front of his shirt that had gotten crinkled during the scuffle.

"I'll um walk them out, Danny. Questioning's over," Garren told the short officer, who had not spoken a word since entering the interrogation room.

As Garren steered me towards the door, my mother sauntered over to Chief Parker. He towered over her petite frame, being nearly 6′6" with bulging muscles under his uniform, but she showed no fear.

"I will say this once so listen to me carefully, Caleb Parker," she warned, her voice low. "If you ever lay a hand on my daughter again, you won't have to worry about my husband or Benedict, who will surely hear of this matter and won't be the least bit pleased that you harmed a child. No, the only person you'll have to fear is me. I don't care about your friends in high places or that people in this town think you're such an inspiration. I won't tolerate anyone hurting the people I love."

He looked amused by her threat. "That's a familiar speech. It didn't scare me twenty one years ago. What makes you think it'll scare me now? You should put a muzzle on that girl of yours before—"

My mother silenced him with a brutal slap across the face. His fingers brushed over the scratch left by her wedding ring.

"Oliver, you were supposed to be protecting her!"

The car ride home had been awkward enough, with my mother squeezing me, Oliver, who both my parents admitted to knowing as my guardian, Elena, and Belmont into the backseat of the car. Most of the time in the car, for me, was spent on Elena's lap.

When we finally arrived at the house, my parents, mostly my mother, unleashed their pent up frustrations. My brother was lucky to be at a friend's house for a sleepover, not having to listen as my parents traded back and forth in lecturing the four of us. In the span of ten minutes, they covered a variety of topics, from me checking on Mr. Mitchell before the police and nearly getting killed by a stranger to mouthing off to Chief Parker in the interrogation room.

I advised Garren against defending himself, telling him it was better to let their shouting run its course. He faced the brunt of my mother's anger for being unaware that I was with Mr. Mitchell until the police arrived at the house.

"Celia, I'm sorry," he said, earnestly. "I know I should've been watching her but I had to drive Chace Parker back to his house after—I was wrong"

"After what? What was Chace doing in the house, Tessa?" asked my father, switching into overprotective mode at the mention of a boy's name.

I weighed my options of what answer would make him least angry. He crossed his arms when I muttered softly, "We were making out."

"You what?!" he shouted.

"Yeah, we were...really going at it. I couldn't help myself. My tongue was pretty much down his throat and if Oliver didn't show up, I'm like 75% sure we would've had sex on this couch." Elena nodded, playing up the act. "I'm not the girl you knew before you went off to Greece, Daddy. I think it's those sex ed classes. They made me very curious and—Mom, are you going to stop me yet? You know I'm lying."

"Yes, I do," she said, my father relieved by her confirmation. "Devlin, honestly, you can't keep expecting that she won't so much as kiss a boy before she's eighty. Now, I want the truth from you. What was Chace doing in the house?"

When I admitted why Garren had to drive Parker home, part of me wished that I had continued with my cover story. My parents were equally displeased, having told me to abandon my plan to uncover the truth behind Belmont's murder. It was even worse, according to my mother, that I was abusing Garren's guardian abilities. Memory extraction and manipulation were solely meant to be used in desperate circumstances.

"We just had our talk today," said my father, exasperated. "Do you not remember what I said?"

I kept my eyes on the floor. "I remember, Dad. This isn't about me wanting to be a shark now."

My mother looked at him, strangely. He avoided her gaze and reminded her that this conversation was about me, not his questionable inspirational lectures.

"What happened to him is part of something bigger and Abuela agrees with me," I said, unintentionally opening up another can of worms.

"When could you possibly visit your grandmother?" asked my mother, hands on her hips. "What does she have to do with this?"

"I visited her when I told you that I was meeting with Mr. Hilton about the loan and then she kind of appeared to me as a coquí outside Will's house. It was weird," I said, part of me still wondering if it was my imagination. "The nurse told me that she tried to escape this morning because she wanted to give us a message. She said we're in danger and before you think that's her being dramatic, I haven't been completely honest about what's going on."

My lack of a filter around authority figures was the least of my parents' worries as I recalled everything that occurred since the night of the party, both having a heart attack when she learned about the attack at the memorial.

Hearing that there was another possible reaper in Belmont Falls shocked my mother, who had only ever encountered one reaper who was passing through the town when I was a baby. Garren refused to believe that a reaper could be responsible for Belmont's death and the actions of the shadow creatures. He was adamant that their guardian would have brought them to the council for their deplorable actions.

"We'd know if a guardian was killed," he said, shooting down Elena's theory. "We...feel it, just as a reaper feels a person's death."

"Then whoever this reaper is, maybe they have their guardian kept hostage or manipulated them into working together." My grandmother was never wrong. "It's not impossible. These creatures usually possess people to cause trouble but right now, they're listening to this master. Maybe one of them possessed whoever killed him that night or the person is working with the reaper."

"And you think a possible suspect is a member of his family? Devlin, tell her that's insane," said my mother, having not removed her arm from my shoulders since I spoke about the memorial.

He ran his hand through his dark hair. "I want to but she makes a convincing argument. Who else would've hired Jackson to steal those papers? Someone took out life insurance for Fin and unless someone in Belmont Falls is a phenomenal actor, it has to be a relative. Maybe it's not connected at all but it's certainly worth looking into, don't you agree?"

The living room was split into three separate camps: my mother and Garren denying the involvement of another reaper and wanting me to move on from playing amateur detective, my father being mildly intrigued and at least willing to believe that a Belmont relative played a role, and Elena, Belmont, and me now more determined than ever to find the truth.

My word, this time, could not convince my parents that I was going to continue on with a normal life, not one where I risked getting mauled to death by shadow monsters. I handed over the evidence I had gathered to my father, including the ring that I discovered on the underside of the bridge.

Another week had passed, though being cooped up in my house made it feel like months. The day after my interrogation at the police station, Parker visited me again, apologizing profusely for his father's behavior.

My own father watched him like a lion eyeing its prey, ensuring that we were never alone for more than thirty seconds and casually mentioning his days on the high school wrestling team and how he learned how to kill someone with his thumb on one of his expeditions. An upside to my confinement was that it allowed me to work on my piece for the art exhibition.

Early Monday morning, I got dressed very quietly for school and left the house. Garren was leaning against his car, his arms folded over his chest.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, sounding more like an accusation than polite conversation. "It's a little too early to head over to the school."

"The cemetery. We go there every morning to see my family. Is that illegal?" asked Elena, glaring at him.

"Not at all." He opened the door. "I'll drive you then I can drop Tessa off at school. I wouldn't want her getting in any trouble."

On the way to the cemetery, I responded to his questions with nothing more than a "yes", "no", or "I don't know". Several cups of coffee and a half empty bag of sour cream and onion chips occupying the passenger seat, I wondered if he had spent the night outside my house.

Elena sat in front of her family's tombstones, telling them how she learned how to cook without burning herself (though she conveniently left out burning Belmont's arm with a splash of water from the pot).

"I remember their car accident. It was on the news for almost two weeks. All those interviews with her friends and her other family members that came all the way here to pay their respects..." I said to Garren, propping my elbows on the passenger seat. "I went to the funeral with her. She wasn't happy that Angela Starr was harassing her friends for interviews. Isn't that funny?"

"I don't see the humor in exploiting a person's death for gossip," he said, listening to Elena's one-sided conversation.

"Not that. I mean, Starr literally stalked her friends for days to get a juicy story. Look at how she got to Will's house so fast and tried to get a statement from Connor while he was being rolled into the ambulance. It's funny that she never did that after Belmont died." I slipped a wink to an intrigued Belmont, who was playing with his lighter. "She wouldn't care if it was murder or an accident. I never saw her hounding his friends for gossip to turn into her latest article."

Garren squeezed his cup of coffee. "Tessa."

"Just an observation," I said, pleased that I had gotten under his skin.

"You swore to me and your parents that this obsession with Fin's death was at an end." He turned around in his seat. "Don't you dare think of meeting with Angie to get dirt on—"

His face was soon redder than a tomato as he realized what he called her. He raised his voice in an attempt to drown out our laughter, insisting that we misheard him. Elena returned to the car to the sight of Belmont making kissy faces while I mimicked Garren's voice.

"Officer Ken has a thing for Angela Starr," I teased.

"K—oh, like a ken doll? Very mature, Tessa. I've seen better behaved monkeys at the zoo," he said, fumbling with his keys. "I don't have feelings for—we were in the same grade and she had a crush on me. I'm sure she sti—but it never...we were never together. I know what you three are planning and it's not going to work. You are not using me to get any dirt Angela has on Fin's case."

We looked at each other then back at Garren, amazed. "That's genius, man. We didn't even think of that," said Belmont, stuffing his lighter back into his pocket.

In a split second, Garren's face turned from bright red to chalk white. He shook his head, watching the plan form between the three of us like a psychic connection.

"W—what?" he stuttered. "I—no, you were—I didn't say...ignore me."

"We were going to use you to find out what Chief Parker's hiding but your high school girlfriend is the safer route." If anyone had secret information about Fin, it was her. "We can talk to her after school. Call her and tell her you want to meet for coffee."

"Absolutely not," he dismissed. "Tessa, you promised to let this go."

"I promised not to investigate Belmont's death myself. You're doing it for me. I bet you've got your friend Angie's number," I teased, causing a twitch in his left eye. "You can either call her or I'll sneak into the police station later and risk Chief Parker trying to strangle me. Do you want that on your hands, guardian?"

"Fine. I'll call her," he said, bearing a look of defeated resignation. "But I highly doubt she knows anything. If she had information on the Belmonts, she would find a way to get it out there. She can't stand keeping secrets to herself."

After a very interesting call, where Angela Starr's elated squeal could be heard through the phone, he drove us to Belmont High, occasionally throwing me an irritated glare in the rearview mirror. We planned for him to pick us up after my last class, to join him on his 'date' at the Blue Moon café.

I was halfway through the front doors when Amity tackled me in a hug. Behind her were Parker and their friends, many of them happy to see me back at school. Mr. Hilton stood out among them, his arm around his daughter's shoulders. Parker peered outside warily, as if expecting my father to be joining me in classes for the day.

"Tessa, we were like so worried." She lowered her lip in a sympathetic pout. "We tried to visit you at the hospital but Claire's mom wouldn't let us all skip. Did you like the magazines?"

"Yeah, thanks." My time in the hospital seemed like it was ages ago. "I liked that one article about bird prints being the new chic for the winter."

"So true. It's why I bought this at a cute shop in New Orleans last week," she said, showing off her dark, short-sleeved mini dress with a white dove print.

Mr. Hilton requested to speak with me when the bell rang for homeroom. Hilton went to say goodbye to her father before joining her friends but he waved her off, his full attention on me. I mentally prepared myself for the verbal lashing I would receive from her when we were in class.

"I'm glad to see you've recovered, Tessa. Not in any pain from that mess in the police station, are you?" he asked, concerned.

"You know about that?" I said, shocked.

"Oh yes, your mother was quite upset. I've already spoken to Chief Parker about keeping his temper under control." Somehow, I doubted a lecture would change his attitude. "Stress is no reason to harm a child. If he harms you again, tell me and that man will lose his badge faster than he can say Belmont Falls."

"That's uh really nice of you, sir," I said, awkwardly. "But I doubt I'll be seeing much of him. I was just at the station to tell him what happened with Connor Mitchell."

"Yes, I heard about that," he replied, frowning. "This town's going topsy turvey. What with happened to Fin and now Connor...good thing you were there to call the police."

He fixed the cuffs on his shirt. I caught a glimpse of his left wrist and kicked Belmont's leg to get his attention away from a freshman girl bending over to pick up her books.

"Your mother told me how they're framing it as an accident." He quietly scoffed. "An accident, I tell you. How ridiculous. Tessa?"

My eyes had not left his wrist, where I had seen the tattoo from Parker's memory. I moved my hand behind my back, holding Belmont's shirt in a firm grip while Elena pinned his arms to his side. He fought against the both of us, which made it look as if I was bouncing on my heels, growling, "Let me at him. I'm going to beat that crypt keeper within an inch of his life," under his breath.

I tried to act normal. "Sorry. I um—I saw the tattoo and...no offense but you don't look like the type. Did you get it when you were younger?"

Mr. Hilton chuckled. "Oh yes, a month before college. It was part of my initiation into the Odyssey Society," he said, touching the wolf's head on his wrist as though it evoked a fond memory. "It's an adventurer's club of sorts. My great great grandfather started it himself. We technically don't allow boys to become members until they're eighteen but we don't mind if they come along with their fathers. I invited your father to join several times but he's much too busy with his work."

"It's men only?" I inquired, hoping it would help narrow down a list of suspects.

"Of course not. Don't think me sexist, dear," he assured me. "We've had women join in the past. Rhys thought Fin would be a good match for it before his...accident. He's been far more active in it lately to cope with the death."

My thoughts drifted to the red and green fingers in Belmont's memory and the similarly colored walls in the unborn baby's nursery. The one family member I could truly disregard was his youngest brother, Bradley. All of the insane theories in the world could never make me believe that a five year old boy was capable of murder, especially one who once cried after accidentally crushing an ant.

Mr. Hilton told me how the club intended to explore a series of caves outside town the upcoming weekend.

"Do you think I could go?" I asked, innocently. "I know I'm not a member but it sounds fun and it would be perfect for some inspiration...for my piece at the exhibition."

He seemed reluctant about letting me join the excursion, noting that Chief Parker was a member. "I doubt your parents would feel comfortable with that," he said, waving at Nurse Simpson.

"But you'll be there," I pointed out. "I doubt he'd try anything with you around, sir. Please? I've never been the type to take risks and who knows how many chances I'll get for such an adventure?"

After considering it for awhile, he grinned. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. You will need a parent's permission, of course. I require that of any minors who travel with us and you will need to dress appropriately."

I nodded, letting him believe that I was eager to explore a cave when I was truly interested in investigating Rhys Belmont and Chief Parker.

"You know, sometimes, I wish that Claire was more like you, Tessa," he said, wistfully. "I've tried to get her to explore on vacations but she'd rather spend a day in the spa. We leave at nine o'clock sharp on Saturday. I'll send a driver to pick you up and take you to the house half an hour before."

I continued holding onto a fuming Belmont's shirt. "Thanks, Mr. Hilton. I should get to homeroom. It was nice talking to you."

When I stepped into the Biology classroom, I felt Hilton's icy eyes burning into me. I hesitated to sit at the back table where Amy saved me a seat beside her but thought it was a slightly preferable option than the awkward stares from my classmates. Dr. Baxter was one of several pairs of eyes watching me as I headed to the back of the room.

"What did my dad want with you now, Byrne? Is he paying for your hospital bills too?" snarled Hilton, not bothering to hide her fury. "How is he helping his favorite charity case today?"

"We were talking about Will's dad and uh the trip he's taking with his adventure club," I said, opening my planner. "I said it sounded fun and he said I could go."

The pen she was using to draw in her notebook poked through the page. Parker, overhearing the conversation, leaned towards the table with a smile.

"You're going too? I didn't think you'd be into that stuff," he said, impressed. "Always with the surprises, Byrne. If you get too scared, feel free to hold onto me."

A paper ball struck the side of my face. "You? Why would he let you go? Your dad's not even—you're not...is this all part of your plan, bitch?" sneered Hilton.

"W—what plan?" I asked, my eyes darting to Amy.

She shrugged, just as clueless as me. Dr. Baxter was discussing the art exhibition and Mrs. Allen's offer for extra credit by creating a piece for the gallery.

"Is that why you let Chace make you all pretty too? To get his attention?" she asked, slamming her notebook shut.

"N—"

"You didn't need that," she said, savagely. "He was noticing you back when you were a pathetic freak in baggy sweaters. You might have everyone else fooled but not me. I've known exactly who you are since that first day in second grade. Soon enough, everyone will see that you're nothing more than a manipulative schemer who hides behind her doe eyes and 'please pity me' face. You're—"

"Miss Hilton, is the exhibition so boring that you need to have a side conversation?" interrupted Dr. Baxter.

Everyone was now looking in my direction as they shifted in their seats. I wished that I was able to turn invisible at will or at least teleport myself to another room.

Hilton feigned a smile at the handsome brunette with high cheekbones who looked like he belonged on the cover of GQ, not discussing extra credit opportunities with a group of high school students (the man who was also her secret boyfriend, according to Parker).

"I'm sorry, sir." She batted her eyelashes. "I was admiring Tessa's adorable skirt. It really shows off her legs, doesn't it?"

"As a teacher, I think it would be inappropriate to comment on such a thing," he replied, stiffly.

"When is it appropriate? When you're at a high school party and too busy staring at her to pay attention to your girlfriend?" I shrunk down in my seat, curious whispers erupting from her remark. "You didn't have a problem with telling your friend on the phone about her sexy legs and how you wanted to slip your tongue—"

"Miss Hilton, that's enough!" The bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom. "I would like a word with you. The rest of you, get to class."

I began to follow Amy to AP English when I felt a tug on my blouse. Instead of saying a word, Belmont pointed towards the Biology classroom then put a finger to his lips.

I peeked through the door, seeing Hilton, her legs crossed, on Dr. Baxter's desk. He paced back and forth, muttering to himself.

"Discretion is what I asked for, Claire," he said, displeased. "You need to be careful with your words. If those pack of morons understood what you meant—"

She scoffed, taking a nail file from her purse. "They didn't. Fin was the only one who knew and he's dead. Stop freaking out over nothing. It's not like I was lying. I heard you that night. You were seconds from jacking off behind the tree."

He turned on his heel. "Is that what this is about? Your jealousy? I'm not a teenage boy, Claire. I don't care for your childish rivalries."

"That bitch started it. If you think I'm so childish, why don't you dump me and hook up with her? Too much of a challenge? You'll have to get in line," she said, sarcastically. "I think my dad wants a shot since he's chucking his money at her and her mom. Looks like you're not the only one trying for a mother-daughter combo."

Dr. Baxter struck her with a backhanded slap. Belmont kept me from opening the door, leaving Hilton to clasp her cheek in pain. The fear reflected in her eyes suggested that it was not the first time he had gotten rough with her. He grabbed her by the front of her dress, his nails digging into her breast.

"S—stop it."

"You're right, Claire. I don't give a damn about you," he hissed, darkly. "Fin was right when he told you that I was using you out of boredom. You were so willing, what with the flirting and wanting to impress your friends with your secret, older boyfriend. To me, you're second best, exactly as your father sees you."

Claire whimpered, struggling to remove his hand. He gripped her dress so tightly that it caused a slight tear.

"Oh, apologies, I tore your nice dress. Now, listen to me. You are going to stop antagonizing that girl." he said, shifting from threatening to sympathetic. "Put your petty jealousy aside and for once, be mature."

She spat in his face. "Screw you. Just because I let you have all this," she said, indicating her curvaceous body. "Doesn't mean you can tell me who I can and can't torment. That face of yours won't make me forget how much I hate that stupid—"

He slammed her head into the desk. Thinking on my feet, I pulled the fire alarm near the girls' bathroom. Within seconds, a loud, irritating noise, the kind to make one's ears bleed, blared through the hallways and students walked out of their classrooms as per fire drill protocol.

Mrs. Allen hushed a group of gossiping freshman girls and urged them to walk in a single file line. She scowled when one girl commented that talking did not affect their ability to leave the building.

I slipped into the line of students leaving the computer lab, keeping an eye out for Hilton. Five minutes into the fake fire drill, I found her with Amy, rubbing concealer over a cut on her cheek. After Principal Hilton reprimanded the entire student body for a miscreant fooling around with the fire alarm ("Free beer for whoever did it!" shouted Parker to a cheering crowd), she allowed us into the building. Dr. Baxter was sitting behind his desk, wiping the blood under his nails.

"Byrne, don't be stupid," whispered Belmont, clutching my arm.

"He's right, Tessa. Look at what he did to Claire. He's a creep but he's even worse in a bad mood. Go to class," said Elena, agreeing with him.

I wrenched my arm from Belmont's grasp and walked into the classroom. Dr. Baxter was typing on a laptop, likely searching for a video to show his class instead of teaching an actual lesson.

His eyes tore away from the screen as I stopped in front of his desk. "Tessa, shouldn't you be in class?" he asked, closing the laptop. "If this is about homeroom, I've spoken to Claire. She won't be doing that again."

"Why, because you slapped her?" I asked, choosing bluntness over subtlety.

"Slapped?" He feigned confusion. "You're mistaken. I would never raise my hand at a student."

"Oh, spare me," I said, fed up with his act. "I saw what you did to her. I can't stop her from hooking up with vile trash but even if we're not friends, it doesn't mean I'll let you hurt someone like that. You'll keep your hands off her or I'll—"

"You'll what?" he challenged.

"I don't have specifics right now but trust me, you'll regret it." Belmont groaned at my failure of a threat. "Go for someone your age instead of taking advantage of teenage girls."

Before I passed through the door, Dr. Baxter pushed it close with one hand and spun me around to him. His body was pressed against mine, not even an inch of space between us. I grimaced at the feeling of something hard brushing my inner thigh.

"I guess I can't help it. Some men like blondes, some like brunettes, some like them skinny, some like them a bit thicker, some like them nice and sweet, some like them nasty...I prefer teenage girls with sharp tongues. Yours has gotten rather sharp lately, hasn't it?"

"G—get off me," I stuttered, my heart racing.

"If you saw me slap poor Claire, then I'm sure you heard what she said." My entire body felt numb. "It is the truth, isn't it? It would take more than a smile to make your knees go weak."

As he spoke, I waved my hand in a circular motion, a silent sign for Elena and Belmont to not hit him, at risk of exposing themselves.

"But I enjoy that," he said, with a wolfish grin. "You've made it difficult for me now that you've decided to abandon your usual style. I used to imagine what you look like and I have to say, my imagination didn't do you justice."

He blocked my hand, inches away from his face, and leaned close to my ear. I tried to move my legs, to kick him in the groin.

"You've kept me up so many nights, Tessa, and I'd love to take what I want, right here and now, but I'll be a gentleman. Do be careful though. The sharper your tongue gets, the less I may be able to resist and I can only be a gentleman for so long. You won't have a stapler to help you then," he whispered, his breath on my neck making me cringe.

My trembling hand managed to grab the door handle and I hurried into the nearest bathroom, wanting to wash away the feeling of his hands on me. Elena suggested leaving an anonymous tip to Principal Hilton about his affair with her daughter, though the note could leave out Hilton's name.

"It would take less than five seconds for her mother to figure it out, Elena," I argued, scrubbing my arm. "I don't want to drag Hilton into this. He knew I got attacked in Will's house."

Belmont was fixing his hair in the mirror. "He could've found that out from any cop, Byrne. More than half the town's in love with him. Guy's a grade A creep but you have to admit, he's good looking. I bet one of the younger cops mentioned it to him at the bar. You need to work on your threats. You couldn't scare a rabbit." He caught my reflection. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because you were a decent person. I wouldn't have seen what he did if you didn't drag me back to the classroom," I said, giving him some credit. "You knew he hit her before, didn't you?"

"She mentioned it. No one knew about them but me so she'd come to me when they were having relationship issues. It was nothing," he muttered, almost embarrassed by his good deed.

"It could've been a lot worse than a cut on her cheek," I insisted. "You helped her."

His lips curved into a fraction of a smile. "Ooh, he does one decent thing. Let's congratulate him for acting like a normal person," mocked Elena, irked by my compliment. "I'm going outside to find dog poop to put in Baxter's coffee. You should get to English before they think you had a fainting incident."

She disappeared from her spot by the sink, leaving me and Belmont alone in the bathroom. With their tumultuous past, I doubted that I needed to explain her coldness towards him.

"That girl can hold a grudge like nobody else."

"Can you blame her?" I asked, drying my hands. "You weren't much of a Prince Charming when you two dated or when you were friends."

"Look, I know I was pretty bad back then but I'm not that per—" I crossed my arms. "I'm trying to be less...annoying. To be honest, dying helped me see that and you're kinda part of that too. You're the only one who's willing to give me a chance and who wants to help me. My own family won't consider that my death wasn't an accident. I was a jerk to you that night and you're still helping me out. I don't get it."

"It's called being a nice person," I replied, a foreign concept to the egotistical jock. "Somewhere deep, deep, deep inside you is one too and I think a piece of him came out this morning. Give Elena time. I'm not saying she'll ever be best friends with you but someday, she might be able to tolerate you."

Elena eventually returned during the last period of the day, Art. She claimed that she was spying on Dr. Baxter but I knew better, that she wanted space from Belmont. It was tough for her to be near him, doing her best for the sole purpose of protecting me. In her mind, my small compliment was comparable to me forgetting my past troubles with him. She was the last person who would believe that Belmont could ever be a kind person.

I sat outside on the front steps, waiting for Garren. My eyes were glued to my phone to check the time, in hopes that he would not back out of our deal. We had not formally met until recently but despite having a giant stick up his backside, he had a sense of honor. Parker encouraged me to watch his football practice, offering me a ride home.

"My ride's almost here," I said, willing to endure Angela Starr over his boring practice. "You shouldn't be late."

"Coach won't mind. I'm the star player," he bragged. "I could skip it and we can go somewhere."

"I heard you talking to your friends at lunch." How could I not overhear when their voices carried over the entire courtyard? "You're supposed to hang out with them at the Falls after practice. You don't have to ditch your plans. It'll give Hilton more reason to hate me."

"She doesn't hate—okay, she hates you with a fiery passion." That was putting it nicely. "Claire's always been the jealous type. Ignore her."

"It's what I've been doing for ten years," I joked.

Katie walked out the front doors in her cheerleading uniform. She called out Amity's name, warning her of Hilton's threat to remove her from the squad for being late.

"Have you seen her, Tessa?" she asked, worried. "Claire sent me to find her but it's like she vanished."

"Not since art class." It was odd for her to miss a practice, rarely unattached from Hilton's side. "Did you try calling her cell?"

"Y—no, I didn't," she said, before shouting her name again. "My head's been all jumbled since..."

Her voice trailed off as fresh tears pooled in her eyes. She sniffled to regain her composure and dialed Amity's number.

"Amy, finally. I've been looking everywhere for you. Where—what?" Perplexed, Katie looked over at me. "Yeah, Tessa's right here. Why? Okay, okay, one sec."

Katie tapped the screen and I heard Amity sing, her melodious voice echoing through the phone. Since elementary school, she had been the lead in numerous plays, whether it was produced by the school or the local theater. She was known for her passion for singing, never missing an opportunity to show off her talent. In one of our conversations during lunch, she had mentioned that while she was away at college, pursuing a business degree to appease her parents, she hoped to be discovered by a talent agent to achieve her true dream of being on Broadway.

Parker joked that it was too early to begin practicing for the spring musical and while I was not opposed to listening to her sing, finding her voice soothing, her choice of song unnerved me.

"Tessa? What is it?" asked Elena, noticing my odd reaction.

"When will we meet again, my sweet?" sang Amity. "My heart aches for you so. Will it be by the old oak tree? The one where we shared those kisses three?"

I grabbed Katie's phone. "Amity? Where are you?"

"The roof," she replied, before singing another verse.

"Tessa, wait up!" shouted Parker as I dashed up four flights of stairs to the roof.

Amity was standing on the ledge, a gust of wind blowing back her cropped, dark hair. Hearing me call her name, she turned around, looking frightened.

"Amity, why are you on the roof?" I asked, sidling towards the ledge. "Get down before you fall."

"I—I don't want to do this." She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. "He told me and I tried to stop but he made me stand here. He made me sing that song."

"He?" I repeated. "Who brought you up here?"

"I don't..." she said, petrified. "He said he was using me to punish you because you didn't listen. Why can't I get down?"

I was distracted by a banging on the door. Katie and Parker were unable to open it, the door somehow locking behind me.

I swallowed hard. "Give me your hand and I'll help you."

As I reached for her, the fearful expression fell from her face, replaced with a sadistic smile. She cackled loudly and purposely leaned over the ledge.

"Itty bitty Tessa didn't listen. Didn't she hear what I said? Now the little bird will fall," she said in a disembodied voice, her eyes turning milky white.

"Get out of her now!" I demanded.

"I let your friend live last time. This time, you won't be that lucky. Her blood is on your hands. This is your punishment. Every time you disobey, another friend dies." Her pure white eyes rested on Elena and Belmont. "I can hurt your invisible friends too. I'll kill Fin like before then I'll kill Elena while you watch helplessly. I'll make her death last the longest."

"S—stop it. You don't have to hurt anyone," I said, raising my hands. "It's me you want so kill me. Leave Amity alone."

She pouted. "But we don't want to kill you. Master wants you alive. Master is trying to help you. So much potential and you waste it on these pieces of flesh," she said, pinching her cheek. "With each death, you'll care less and less until you see that they mean nothing."

"I don't know who's controlling you but I am nothing like your master. Every person means something, whether they're like me or not. I won't let you take another life! Leave her alone!" I shouted.

A warm sensation grazed my wrist. My raven-shaped birthmark turned solid black, reminiscent of the night I saved Katie, and Amity tilted her head, a cloud of dark smoke emerging from her mouth.

As Amy remained on the ledge, in a catatonic state, the shadow creature appeared in front of her. It lunged towards me and out of instinct, I crouched down, my hands over my head. A flash of golden light washed over me, my wrist feeling like it was on fire. I waited for the creature's attack but nothing happened, only a light breeze.

"B—Byrne, what is that?" I heard Belmont say.

Lifting my head, I saw the creature swiping at a golden light in the shape of a raven. The raven passed through the creature, slicing it in half and reducing it to a pile of ash. I stepped back as the raven flew towards me and landed on the palm of my hand, turning into a thin black dagger with its blade in the shape of a scythe.

I stuffed the dagger in my jacket and helped a bemused Amy off the ledge. She had no recollection of going to the roof and before I could come up with a convincing lie, the door broke open.

Parker, Garren, and Katie fell to the ground, piled on top of each other. Garren managed to extricate himself and tripped over his own feet in his hurry to check on both me and Amity.

Breathless, he lied that he was driving past the school when he saw her standing on the roof. He passed off the suspiciously locked door on a piece of wood jammed into the frame, a flimsy story but Katie and Parker were too worried about their friend to question it.

"Officer Garren, I swear I don't know how I got up here," she said, sniffling. "Maybe someone was playing a prank on me. My vitamin water kind of tasted funny."

"You're all right, Amity," he assured her. "Do you need to go to the hospital? I was heading there to take Tessa for a checkup."

"No. I have to get to cheer practice. Claire is probably super mad," she said, running down the steps as though she had not been seconds away from plummeting to her death.

I followed Garren to his car. He drove around the corner before parking along the sidewalk, concerned by my silence.

"What happened to Amity?" he asked the three of us. "Was it those creatures?"

"Yeah, it possessed her and forced her onto the roof," said Elena, answering for me. "It made Amy sing a song. I didn't recognize it."

"My grandmother used to sing it," I said, twirling the pendant of my necklace between my fingers. "She sang it when we would visit my grandfather's grave. I haven't heard it since the day she got attacked. We were supposed to go to the zoo and when my mother found her, my grandmother was lying on the living room, unconscious. Her stereo was playing that song on a loop, like it was taunting her...telling her that she'd be reunited with my grandfather. No one could know the meaning of that song besides my family and whoever attacked her."

"You think it's the same person who killed me? The reaper?" asked Belmont.

"Who else could it be? They had to be stalking my grandmother for awhile if they recorded her singing for that tape," I said, unable to think of another culprit. "The creature said their master doesn't want to kill me. What if they want to use me to get at my grandmother? To finish what they started."

Garren was firmly in denial of the reaper theory. As he began to list off several reasons that it was improbable, starting with his beloved council overseeing all actions committed by reapers and guardians, the blade of the dagger glinted in the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Hey, you can at least ask," I grumbled, when he reached into my pocket. "What is this, violate personal space day? First Baxter, now you..."

He stared at the strange dagger, his eyes growing to the size of a dinner plate.

"I was going to show you that after you talked to your precious Angie," I said, mockingly. "I don't want you worrying that I have some weird knife collection so I'll tell you now. That creature was about to attack me and this golden raven appeared out of nowhere."

"Came out of her birthmark. There was a light and then it looked like a raven," added Elena, slapping Belmont's hand as he reached into the bag of chips on her lap.

I nodded. "Didn't see that part but I did see the weird raven slice one of those creatures in half and then it turned into the dagger. That's all I—"

"What did you do?!" he cried.

"N—nothing," I stuttered, taken aback by his outburst. "Why are you freaking out?"

"Y—you shouldn't...this can't be here. The council will—oh gods, my father will never let me hear the end of it. This is your fault!" he said, pointing at Belmont who stuffed a handful of chips in his mouth and mumbled, "What did I do?" in between bites. "She was fine until you came along. We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't—we need to get rid of it."

I took the dagger from him. "Uh no. We need to keep it because it can hurt those shadow creatures. It saved my life. What's got your panties in a knot?"

Garren leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. The way he was acting, it was like the dagger was a weapon used to murder the council leader and having it would frame us for the crime.

The dagger was apparently a treasured artifact, the blade of Charon. It was one of the weapons used by the ferryman of the same name to guard the passage to the Underworld and keep its many monsters from escaping out into the rest of the world. The blade had been entrusted to the council for safekeeping centuries ago, protected by special enchantments and hidden away in a location exclusively known to the council.

Though I tried to tell him that it was not my fault, he was having a full blown panic attack. "I swear I didn't summon it or perform a creepy ritual to get it. Like I said, my birthmark shot out a raven that killed the creature and then turned into...this. I don't know how. I never even knew about it until today."

"You've certainly gotten better at lying," he said, suspiciously. "How do I know you didn't read about it in your books, figured out its location, and sent Elena or Fin to retrieve it?"

"That's insane. Okay, if I knew it could kill those creatures, I probably would've tried to find it" My honesty caused him to become short of breath. "But I swear on my little brother's life that I was clueless about it until five minutes ago. If it's so protected, why did it show up? This happened before...when I saved Katie. The dagger didn't appear but my birthmark went all dark and then the shadow creature vanished."

"We'll talk to your mother," he muttered, more to himself than to me. "Perhaps she knows a way to send it back before the council finds out that it's missing. If Cedric...but he won't because we'll tell your mother after this ridiculous plan with Angela fails. Is it hot in here? Is anyone else sweating?"

Belmont, not helping matters, suggested that the blame was on Garren for this dagger mishap. If he had shown up at the school on time, he could have protected me from the shadow creature himself but because of his tardiness, I was forced to summon a mystical dagger that was allegedly off limits to reapers.

His taunts were leading Garren to his breaking point, his hands digging into the wheel. Instead of voicing his anger, he settled for seizing the bag of chips and crushing the remaining chips into pieces. He threw the crumpled bag at Belmont's face then headed inside the Blue Moon café, where Angela Starr, swiping on lip gloss, was sitting at a table by the window.

She was dressed in her usual attire that was better suited for Beverly Hills, with her six inch peep toe heels and a sleeveless, floral print dress. The bow-shaped belt around her waist highlighted her unnaturally skinny frame and her neatly trimmed nails were freshly painted with a French manicure, diamond studs separating the white and clear polish. Her cherry red lips, long eyelashes, and the light blush accentuating the cheekbones of her tanned, oval face gave her the appearance of a living doll.

I never understood why she wasted her time as a journalist in Belmont Falls when she clearly had aspirations of stardom. A passing tourist would see her as a sweet young woman with a passion for journalism but those who lived here knew that her doll-like appearance was merely a façade, hiding her truly ugly personality. She was, no doubt, ambitious, employing highly illegal tactics to get her hands on a story and her willingness to slander anyone made her plenty of enemies. The adults in town outright despised her and her malicious methods. She was much more popular with the teenagers, particularly Hilton and her clique, who devoured her articles as ammunition for their bullying.

I sat at a table directly across from her, pretending to text on my phone. Upon seeing Garren, she let out a girlish giggle and kissed him on both cheeks.

"Ollie, it's been forever," she squealed. "I'm so touched that you missed me. I got your favorite. Coffee, two sugars."

As they sat down at the table, her fingers rested on his wrist like a snake looped around a tree branch.

"Heh, well I saw that you were back in town when we were dealing with the Connor Mitchell accident." He cleared his throat. "How was Los Angeles?"

"So amazing. Don't get me wrong. I'll always love this town but being in LA is just...it's like a whole other world. I even got to talk to some people about expanding my blog into an actual show. How awesome would that be?" she said, taking a sip from her vanilla soy latte.

He pretended to be interested. "Wow, imagine using your talents to get the latest gossip on celebrities. None of them would be able to hide their secrets from you."

Unsurprisingly, Angela boasted about herself and her potential fame. Garren was hardly able to say one word before she redirected the conversation back to her trip to Los Angeles. Whenever she mentioned a man or the occasional woman flirting with her, she seemed to be gauging his reaction for a hint of jealousy.

She flashed him a seductive smile. "I think I know why you asked me to meet you."

"It's about the Fin Belmont case," he replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

Those six words soured her mood. She retracted her hand from his wrist, as if it was made of lava.

He looked genuinely apologetic. "Angie, I'm sorry if you thought..."

"Thought what?" she asked, coolly. "This is so typical of you, Ollie. You want to use me for work and then you'll avoid me like a plague until you need me."

"It isn't like that," he said, resting his hand on hers. "I—I've always...no matter how I feel, I can't go against Chief Parker's orders. He's my boss and if he found out that we were seeing each other, he'd fire me on the spot."

"I get why you're scared of him after what he did to that poor Byron girl." Garren's eyes widened, realizing that she was referring to me. "Yeah, I heard about it. After a few beers, Danny will talk about anything. If he wasn't so close to Charles, you know he'd be sacked. Why are you looking into Fin Belmont's death? It was ruled an accident."

"One of his classmates doesn't think it was and I thought speaking with you would help prove their suspicions wrong. I mean, if you had information to the contrary, you would've posted it on your blog, no matter the consequences."

Her hazel green eyes sparkled with excitement. "No, they're right. I've been sitting on this for weeks and I've been dying to post it but I'll admit that I'm a little nervous. It's about the Belmont family, after all. The last time I posted a remotely scandalous thing about them, Charles pretty much threatened to kill me. Remember that article on their spring break trip to Cancun? It was taken down in like thirty seconds. Didn't stop someone from taking a quick screenshot to keep circulating it but I guess a blurry picture is easier to dismiss than a full article."

Angela retrieved her laptop from her leather purse. Garren's smile was as fake as the toupée on the middle-aged café owner's head. When he agreed to meet her, he hoped that it would prove pointless and dissuade me from continuing the investigation into Belmont's death.

She opened up documents on her laptop, including a copy of the life insurance policy. Most of the documents were statements from the staff at Belmont Manor, who divulged secrets in exchange for money.

The maids reported overhearing numerous arguments between Belmont and his father in the days leading up to his death. One maid, who had been cleaning the kitchen the night of the incident, witnessed Mr. Belmont threatening to disown his son if he leaked a well-guarded secret. He had even slammed him into the wall, nearly choking the life out of him until she banged into a cabinet as a distraction. It explained Belmont's memory of being strangled by red and green fingers, the argument possibly happening while they painted the nursery.

"She didn't hear all the details but it was enough to do my own research. Katrina's about four months along in her pregnancy." She lowered her voice as a waitress cleaned a nearby table. "Those maids hear everything, Ollie, and I mean everything. The last time they heard Charles and his little wife getting intimate? Eight months ago, give or take a few weeks. That baby isn't his."

Listening to Angela theorize about the potential fathers of the unborn baby sparked Belmont's memories. He whispered to me and Elena that he remembered the fight with his father and how he learned about the secret. Coming home after a grueling football practice, he heard his parents arguing about his mother keeping the baby. His father wanted her to terminate the pregnancy, disgusted by the idea of his wife's baby being fathered by another man.

Though his mother strongly denied an affair, his father threatened to divorce her and leave her penniless, the same as she was when they first met years ago, though his exact words were 'a penniless, desperate whore'. Belmont used the secret as leverage to protect his mother, banking on his father's desire to avoid an embarrassing scandal that could ruin his reputation. He believed his mother's claims that the baby was truly his father's, the baby the product of a hazy, drunken memory from a night spent in Saint-Tropez.

"Fin found out," said Angela, pouring extra sugar in her latte. "Everyone knows how much he hated his father and wanted to leave this town. This was his ticket out out of Belmont Falls."

"So your theory is that his father took out this life insurance policy then killed him to keep the secret?" asked Garren, as I wrote down her every word. "I hardly see why he would be that threatened. Even if Fin exposed the truth about the baby, he wasn't known for being reliable. I doubt anyone would have believed him."

"Not exactly. I think Robot Rosalie is in on it too." Belmont snorted into his sleeve at the childish nickname. "She's got her lips so firmly attached to his ass that she'd do anything for him. I traced back the document to the insurance agent and talked with him at a bar in New Orleans. Three hours later plus my lucky bra and my favorite black dress? He told me that Rosalie was the one who met with him about the life insurance."

Angela showed him security footage of Rosalie meeting the insurance agent in his office. According to him, Rosalie claimed that her parents were being cautious, due to Fin's planned trip with Rhys after graduation. It was a believable story to an outsider but Angela deduced that the money was going to be used for Mrs. Belmont after the divorce, to maintain her silence about other family secrets.

I remembered how Mr. Mitchell mentioned the offshore account in Greece to my father. If Angela was right, the plan was for Mrs. Belmont to be sent there after giving birth to live a comfortable life.

"Why haven't you told anyone about this?" asked Garren, speechless. "You have video evidence plus testimony from the insurance agent."

"Except I don't," she lamented. "The morning after we spoke, I woke up alone in the hotel bed. He left a note that he needed to leave town to visit family but he would be willing to meet with me after the trip. That was three weeks ago, Ollie, and I checked the handwriting on the note to a note in his office. Pieces of it don't match."

Copies of the two notes appeared side by side on the screen, the differences circled in red.

"I tracked his credit card to a hotel in New Orleans and found out that he was last seen with his body hanging from a ceiling fan." Garren choked on his coffee, clearly expecting a less grim ending to the story. "The cops there said he left behind a suicide note. Stress over a recent divorce and the usual cliché crap."

"Angie, you don't think—"

"Of course I do and you're thinking it too," she said, making him wriggle uncomfortably in his seat. "Charles Belmont got to him first to tie up the loose ends. As much as I love a scandal, I love my life a little more." She checked a message on her phone. "I need to get to the hospital to talk with Colin Michaels. Hopefully, I get there before your boss does and I find out that he slit his own throat. It was nice seeing you. Maybe we can have another coffee date and talk about something more cheerful than murder?"

"Anytime you like. Just please don't keep looking into this case," he pleaded, rising from the table. "If you're right about what happened to that insurance agent—"

"Hey, I always go after the big stories," she said, with a smile. "You don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, she left the café. For someone who had been initially against leaving her a voicemail, the concern was written all over his face. The meeting with the conceited yet surprisingly resourceful Angela Starr had not only given us new pieces of information linked to Belmont's death, but a possible ally in Garren.