"So far, who have you talked to?" I ask once we're seated on the floor in my bedroom. Leaning against the bed, I prop my laptop against my legs, which are bent at an angle.

Zoe pulls her laptop from her bag, flipping open the sticker-covered top. "Just the janitors. Did you know that the school website puts all their staff, including janitors, on their staff page?"

"Hence why it would be called, 'staff.'"

Zoe rolls her eyes. "I thought it meant admin and faculty, not the cleaning and lunch crews. Anyway, there are only three janitors employed by the school. I spoke to all three."

"Fast work of tracking them down."

"Not really," Zoe shrugs. "I mean, just roam the halls at morning, noon, and after school, and you're bound to see one or two."

"And what did you find out?"

"They didn't see anyone in the hallways at that time," Zoe says. "At least, no one around that area. Not until a couple minutes before five. Then they saw about five to ten kids leaving the theater room."

"What about the rest of the school?"

"I didn't ask, and to be honest, if I asked anymore questions, they might think it's weird."

"Fair enough. I certainly didn't see anyone, and I walked from the library to the auditorium. No one was leaving the foyer when I passed through it."

"Who did you talk to?" Zoe asks.

"I spoke to the drama club members. Apparently, drama club ran twenty minutes over, leaving a ten minute window for the killer to make their move."

"Wow." Zoe rolls onto her side, her legs stretched out beside her and her head resting on her elbow. "That doesn't give much time." She suddenly perks up. "Wait, how is it that you didn't see any of the drama club members in the hallway if they got out ten minutes to four?"

I stare off into space, trying to figure out the logistics of everything. "Well, I didn't come downstairs until closer to four. The drama club must've left by then."

"And the killer hadn't, otherwise you would've seen them leaving. So the killer was still in the Auditorium!"

A shiver runs down my spine. I was also in the auditorium. The only reason why I began looking into these logistics was because I wanted to quell my fears, not prove them right.

"Madelyn, are you okay?"

I blink, vision focusing on Zoe. She looks slightly worried.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"I think someone from the drama club is looking pretty suspicious at the moment," Zoe says. "Unless someone just hid backstage and slipped out at a later point."

"But wouldn't I have sensed them?" I pause, considering it. "Maybe not if they found a far enough nook to hide themselves in. I mean, I did leave the building and wait outside by the carpool lane after calling 911. That would've been plenty of time for someone to get away."

"I wonder if we can go backstage and check it out ourselves," Zoe says.

"Worse case scenario, we can always ask the drama club members about the layout. They were pretty helpful, and didn't seem too suspicious of my questions."

"Did you find out anything else?"

"Yeah. Apparently, Evan had a disgruntled girlfriend."

"Ooh, who's that?"

"Isabella Johnson."

Zoe frowns. "Huh. Don't know her."

"Same, but I think she's the girl I told you about who was trash-talking Evan at the memorial."

"That's highly suspicious."

"I know. It's one thing to do that over text or with your friends. But it was literally during the memorial. Anyway, here's another thing: Evan started using the dating app a few months before as a joke. He went on several dates using it, and that's even how he met Isabella."

"Wow. That's crazy."

"They dated for maybe a month to two months during the summer, then broke up. But here's the funny thing, it sounds like he totally forgot about the dating app."

"Really?'

"Yeah. Hannah said that Evan mentioned a few days before Friday that he'd gotten another match, but didn't say anything about inputting another match into the generator. It sounds like it matched him all by itself."

"Maybe it was running low on users to match people with," Zoe suggests.

"Yeah, maybe." There's a beat of silence as I recall my conversation with the drama club. I think I hit all the highlights, except for one point that just feels too personal to mention: the xanax. If Evan really did struggle with anxiety, I'd rather it not get out there for the sake of his health privacy.

There's also a strange, nagging concern that it might tie back to me. I try to shake the thought, but it just won't leave me alone.

"Who knew he was using the dating app?" Zoe asks, breaking through my thoughts.

"Just the drama club and anyone he dated using the app."

"And anyone who his dates told they had a date with him."

I nod. "Oh, and Drake Collins. He used to be part of the theater tech crew, but he's not at school anymore."

"Why?"

"Don't know. I tried to ask the drama club members and the people in my special abilities class, but no one knows."

"Hmm." Zoe rolls onto her stomach and pulls up a web browser. She goes to Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook and begins typing his name into the search bar after signing into her accounts. After several minutes, she shakes her head. "He doesn't seem to have any socials."

I snicker. "What about BeReal?"

Zoe rolls her eyes, pulling out her phone. Minutes later, she shakes her head.

"Well, maybe he has accounts on other platforms. Or maybe he goes by a different name. Maybe I can ask the drama club members if they know."

A lazy smile spreads on Zoe's lips. "Won't they think you have a crush on him?"

Heat flares in my cheeks. "No. I'll just say that I'm trying to make a group chat with other energy sensors. You know, so we can all connect together."

"Suuure." Zoe draws out the word in a teasing way, and I nudge her.

"Actually, I can text Hannah about that right now. I have her number from the group project we're doing in ehap."

Zoe shakes her head. "I'm so glad I didn't sign up for that."

"Come on, you're good at history."

"Sure, but I also respect my brain cells. AP art is more my thing." Zoe sits up, crossing her legs beneath her. "So, what now?"

I bite my lip. "Well, once I track down Isabella and Drake, I should try to talk to them. And I guess the last person to try to contact would be my former teacher Miss Laybrook."

"Why?"

I tell her what I learned from Kayla, how she was fired from the school due to another student. Zoe's brow wrinkles when I'm done.

"But how does that relate to Evan?" she asks.

"I'm not sure." In fact, it might be totally unrelated to Evan. I just want to quell my own rising guilt that another catastrophe is my fault.

"Well, let's stalk her socials." Zoe finds her on Instagram. It's full of mostly travel photos. I must say, it's pretty awkward to scroll through pictures of your teacher in casual attire doing normal things, like shopping, taking beach trips, or just posting about the latte she got on the weekend. It's funny; seeing this page, I wouldn't have the slightest thought that something was wrong, that she was fired from her job. It just shows how social media can perpetuate appearances.

After a few minutes of scrolling, Zoe clicks on a photo. It enlarges to show two streets called 'Serenity Drive' and 'Waterlily Way.' The caption reads, "home sweet home" with a heart emoji.

"Dang, you'd think teachers would know better than to give away their location like this," Zoe says.

"She's pretty young for a teacher."

"I noticed." Zoe squints at the screen. "I bet we could track this down if you wanted to talk to her."

"And just knock on her door?" I laugh.

"No. But if you're a part of, say, a community pick-up litter campaign, maybe that would explain why you're in her neighborhood. She can't stay inside all day long, after all."

Boy, am I glad to have someone like Zoe on my side. I would've never thought of a brilliant cover like that. I just hope Miss Laybrook buys it.