Chapter 12
The lights flickered once, twice—then snapped back on.
For half a second, Erica didn’t understand what she was looking at. Her eyes skated over him without landing, as if the shape didn’t belong to the room. Her brain rejected it on principle.
Then her gaze found the dark circle in the center of his forehead, perfectly round, too precise. Blood pooled beneath his head, spreading in a slow, widening halo.
Derek lay on the floor.
Not sprawled the way someone collapsed from too much wine would have been. Not crumpled the way Liv had been in the bathroom. He was flat on his back, arms slightly out, legs bent at the knees, like his body had tried to brace for an impact that never came.
Liv made a sound that didn’t feel human. It tore out of her chest, raw and animal-like, and she dropped down beside him.
“I didn’t mean to,” she sobbed. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—” The words broke apart, losing shape.
Her hands hovered over his chest for a second, uncertain, grasping at the air above his shirt as if she could grab his essence and push it back into his body.
Erica couldn’t move. She watched Liv paw at Derek’s chest, watched the blood spread, watched the living room become something else again.
Chad stepped in and wrenched the gun from Liv in one swift motion. “This is why I hold the gun,” he said, already shoving it back into his waistband.
Erica’s stomach turned at how relieved Chad looked, like control had been returned to its rightful owner.
Zach dropped to his knees, fingers pressing at Derek’s neck, then his wrist. He leaned in close, ear hovering over Derek’s chest, listening for something Erica knew wasn’t coming. He stayed there longer than necessary, long enough that it became its own form of denial.
“Is he—” Liv choked.
Beckie squinted from where she stood, arms folded. Her mascara had run in two crooked stripes, making her look both furious and vaguely theatrical. “I mean,” she said, “look at him. You blew his brains out.”
“Shut up!” Liv screamed.
“Don’t ask questions with obvious answers,” Beckie snapped, rolling her eyes. “He has a fucking hole in his head.” Her voice wobbled at the end. It wasn’t bravery. It was habit.
Erica recognized it then. Beckie’s reflex was to perform cruelty when she was afraid. She filled the silence before it could swallow her.
“This can’t be happening,” Liv whispered, over and over, like the words were a spell. Erica sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around Liv from behind, pulling her close. Liv shook so hard Erica felt it in her teeth.
Chad gestured at the scene, exasperated. “If you all would’ve just listened to me, we’d have one dead body to deal with—not two.”
“Fuck off, Chad,” Zach said, not looking up.
Chad snorted. “Oh, like this isn’t your fault. You’re the one who hired the medium to expose my affair. You could have just written a letter instead of contacting the dead, ya drama queen.”
“You killed him!” Zach shouted.
“It was an accident,” Chad said again, as if repeating it made it true—but the word accident sounded smaller now, worn thin from overuse.
Liv lurched toward the coffee table where their phones sat, but Erica tightened her grip.
“We have to call an ambulance,” Liv sobbed.
Beckie let out a small, broken laugh. “More like a funeral home. Maybe they can swing by with a hearse.”
“Screw you, Beckie!” Liv screamed, twisting violently.
Chad’s hand went to his waistband. The gun appeared again, arm extending with practiced ease.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
The room obeyed him instantly. Everyone went still, and that terrified Erica more than the weapon itself.
She stood anyway. Her legs trembled, but she forced her voice to stay level. “Someone’s going to call the police, Chad. Maybe not someone in here, but a gun went off. You don’t think a neighbor heard it?”
Chad dragged a hand over his face, pacing. “We’ve gotta get rid of these bodies and get this place cleaned up. Fast.”
“I’m not getting rid of Derek’s body,” Liv said hoarsely.
Chad stopped in front of her, looming. “Then go ahead and call the police and tell them you shot your boyfriend in the head.”
Liv broke. She folded in on herself, crying so hard she couldn’t breathe.
Beckie clicked her tongue. “For the record, only two people in this room killed someone. Zach, Erica, and I are innocent.”
Erica looked at her. “I wouldn’t call you innocent.”
Beckie blinked. “Huh? Oh, the affair? You’re still mad about that?” She scrunched up her face. “That was two murders ago.”
A knock hit the door and everyone froze. The sound was ordinary, which was the worst part.
“Stay quiet,” Chad whispered.
Another knock, louder this time. “This is Ron,” a man called from the other side. “Building management. A neighbor reported a loud bang and screaming. Can you open up?”
Erica’s heart slammed into her ribs. The word bang echoed too close to gunshot. Her mind scrambled, cataloging lies that wouldn’t matter given the carnage around her.
“What do we do?” Beckie whispered.
“We have to answer,” Zach said. “If we don’t, he’ll call the cops.”
“Look what he’ll see,” Chad hissed, jerking his chin toward Elias and Derek.
“Don’t open it much then,” Beckie said. “Crack it just a bit and keep the chain lock on. Make it weird so he leaves.”
“That’ll look suspicious,” Erica whispered. “He’s going to want to look inside.”
Chad shoved the gun back into his waistband and grabbed Elias by the ankle. “Grab the other leg.”
Zach did, his face pale, jaw locked. They dragged Elias toward the couch, their muscles straining. Chad flung a blanket over him, but it didn’t fully cover the body. His shoes stuck out on one end and part of his bloody head on the other.
“Hello?” Ron called again. “If you don’t open up, I’m calling the police.”
“Coming,” Erica said. She hated how thin her voice sounded, and she didn’t even have the energy to lie well. “I’m just getting dressed.”
“Your neighbors are concerned,” Ron said.
Chad’s face was slick with sweat as he yanked another throw blanket free and layered it over Elias. Then he and Zach turned to Derek.
“Don’t touch him,” Liv whispered. It came out feral.
Beckie grabbed Liv from behind, pinning her arms at her sides in a silent struggle.
“Let go of me.”
“Not until we hide your boyfriend’s body,” Beckie hissed.
Zach grabbed Derek under the arms, while Chad took his ankles. They dragged him toward the far side of the couch, leaving a trail of blood behind.
“Sounds like you’re having a party,” Ron said lightly—the tone of someone pretending things were normal.
“Nope,” Erica said. “Just a couple of friends.”
“And you’re getting dressed?” Ron asked.
She didn’t answer. Chad nodded once and mouthed, “Now.”
Erica wrapped her fingers around the handle and pulled. Nothing happened.
Her heart kicked, and she tried the lock, but it was already unlocked, so she pulled again.
“It won’t open,” she said, panic crawling up her throat.
“Unlock it,” Ron snapped.
“It is,” Erica said. She yanked again harder, but the door didn’t budge. The resistance felt deliberate.
Ron rattled the door. “Stop playing games.”
“I’m not,” she said—and the truth of it vibrated in her bones.
Chad shoved past her and yanked the handle. Veins stood out in his neck. The door didn’t move.
“What the fuck is wrong with this thing?” he snarled.
“What’s going on in there!?” Ron yelled.
“It’s stuck!” Chad yelled back. “What don’t you get about the word stuck?”
The door was solid, sealed almost, like the frame had fused.
Ron’s footsteps retreated. “That’s it, I’m calling the police.”
“No—don’t,” Erica blurted.
“Protocol,” Ron shouted back. “We have a gunshot report and you’re refusing to open the door.”
“It wasn’t a gunshot,” Erica said desperately. “I—I threw something.”
Ron didn’t respond. He was already gone.
“Shit,” Zach whispered.
Erica’s gaze drifted to the wooden board on the coffee table. Their objects sat exactly where Elias had arranged them, a circle she’d never agreed to join. The brass bell rested at the center, harmless as decor. The tarot deck lay beside it, edges squared.
A clean ring of flame ignited around Derek’s keys. Liv gasped. Her hair clip burst into fire next. The plastic shrank and curled with a sharp chemical stink.
Then Chad’s watch.
Then Zach’s penny.
Erica’s breath caught as her sister’s ring flared last.
Beckie screamed.
Her bracelet burned white-hot against her wrist. She ripped it off with a yelp and flung it to the floor, stomping wildly until the flames died. The gold left a red mark on her skin that looked like a cruel little smile.
“What the hell is happening?” Zach said.
Chad stared at the board, and for the first time, his certainty cracked. His eyes flicked to the door, the hallway, the ceiling. There was nowhere left to look.
Liv went very still. “I told you,” she whispered, frighteningly calm now. “We’re going to die.”
Erica stepped forward without realizing she’d moved. Her heart hammered, but the fear was different now. It was clear and focused. A slow, creeping thought slithered into her brain. The door wouldn’t open. The room had decided that.
“It’s not going to let us leave,” she said.
Chad let out a brittle laugh. “That’s ridiculous.”
Erica shook her head. Her eyes stayed on the door, on the dead bolt that meant nothing, on the handle that had become a joke.
“We left their door open,” she said. “So they’re closing ours.”