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True, the night Nina vanished Tommy was with the team at Coach Steeler’s house having pizza. True, Tommy hadn’t left the house until after nine o’clock, by which point Nina had already sent her last text: Don’t look for me.

No, Tommy hadn’t mentioned receiving a text from Nina. And so far as Daniel knew, he’d never tried calling her cell phone, even after he’d heard from her concerned mother that Nina wasn’t at home. Tommy later claimed it was because he’d found out that Nina was sleeping with somebody else.

But at the time, Daniel had thought it odd.

Daniel Frisker hadn’t come forward sooner, he claimed, for the same reason Nina Faraday’s friends had walked back their statements: Nina was afraid of Tommy’s temper and worried about the supplements Coach Steeler was encouraging his star swimmers to take. The reason?There was no point. The Steelers had too much power, too much pull with the police.

Besides, for years Daniel had suffered from a kind of Stockholm syndrome, a bond of shared trauma that yoked him to the pact he’d made with the rest of the team. They’d agreed to alibi each other—and had sworn to never mention that Coach Steeler was late to his own party, that he was missing for about an hour and a half on the evening Nina Faraday was last seen alive.

Three

We felt it fitting that Akash, who had reported the first sighting of Lucy Vale, brought us our last solid news about her.

It was a Saturday, a few days after the fire, and we were all bleeding time away on Discord. That’s how the weekends felt spring of our junior year. On Saturdays we congealed inside our boredom, coagulating on our beds and sofas and laptops. On Sundays we were gutted, spilling unchecked toward the school week. Our parents were newly suspicious. They scented trouble in every text alert. They hovered around us constantly, like a foul smell.

We were dissatisfied and disconcerted. That morning we’d been batting around theories about Reese Steeler-Cox’s latest TikTok video, an unexpected tirade about the swim team and the special privileges they enjoyed from Administration. We were baffled. We were nonplussed. We were jealous that she’d gotten so much organic engagement.

Reese Steeler-Cox was one of the most dedicated swim team shills. She was a Student Council princess. A student hallway monitor. Practically an Administrative appendage.

She was in love with Noah Landry, for Christ’s sake. That’s why she’d defended Lucy Vale to the Investigative Committee back in January—to get back at Noah Landry for picking a different girl.

It was known. It was the only thing that made sense.

Like the fact that you couldn’t trust a girl from Jalliscoe.

Like the fact that Lydia Faraday was a nutjob.

Like the fact that she’d been found hanging in the apple tree.

These were the stories we’d grown up with, and the stories that had grown us.

We didn’t need proof. Some things, we just knew.

April had the raw, wild smell of manure and new things growing out of sight.

Akash logged on.

@kash_money:Has anyone heard from Lucy?

It took all of us a second to get over the shock of seeing Lucy’s name. We seesawed momentarily over a bad feeling, like we’d been tipped down into a pit.

@mememeup:?

@badprincess:what do you mean?

@lululemonaide:why would we have heard from Lucy?

@spinn_doctor:does anyone still talk to her?

@kash_money:that’s what I’m asking. Has anyone talked to her?

@nononycky:the answer is no. no, we have not talked to Lucy.

@mememeup:the question is why are you asking?

@kash_money:the sheriff is looking for her

@mememeup:ummm ... try the Faraday House?