The group had now left the basement and were talking in the living room about everything that had happened over the last few days - or in Edward and Andy's cases - years.
Kevin was seated on an armchair, Grace was staring worriedly out the window, and Edward and Andy were standing together in the middle.
"Did you see a young girl around here when you arrived?" Grace said suddenly, talking to her great uncle.
"No, I don't think so," he replied, putting his hand to his chin in thought. "Actually, there was a chick across the road. She didn't look suspicious or anything, just kind of walking along."
"Did she have long red hair?" Grace turned around, facing her relative with concern on her face.
"I... I can't remember. Sorry, Grace." He looked down in slight embarrassment.
Andy decided it was time for her to add something to this conversation.
"Well, we knew she was there, because she was with the inventor's son, right? So how do we know she'll still be involved?" Andy looked to everyone for confirmation, Edward first, then everyone else. The only one who seemed to not disagree with her was Edward, who had just gazed at her sort of vacantly.
"Of course she's still going to be involved!" Grace said back. "She'll think you killed him. And you would have, too."
"Okay, okay," Kevin tried to break up what might've been a fight. "Who are we talking about?"
Everyone hesitated to reply, and the old man looked from person to person confusedly.
"What?"
Grace was the first to reply, "None of us like her - at all. She's the town's gossip queen, and is a selfish brat too. Remember Joyce Monroe?" She raised her eyebrows.
"The weirdo?" Kevin grinned.
"Yes. Well that's her abomination of a granddaughter." Grace turned to look back out the window, when the doorbell rang. Her and Andy darted around, and Edward jumped.
"Hide, quick!" Grace ran to the door and motioned for them to get away. They both hurried into the other room.
Grace began to unlock the door and heard the chatter of a group of girls. She looked back at Kevin who was still seated behind her, and whispered, "Speak of the devil."
As the door opened, the group grew silent.
"What is it this time?" Grace said tiredly, resting against the doorframe, partly because she was exhausted, and partly because she didn't want them peering inside.
"We thought we could come to a little agreement." One of them said. Chelsea was nowhere to be seen, surprisingly. Usually she was the ringleader of these types of things.
Grace raised her eyebrows.
"This better not involve our previous meeting. You know Chelsea told the police, don't you?"
This made a chorus of gasps ripple through the group.
"She did? What did they say? Are they guilty?"
"No. They're not. And the police found the culprit. It was some guy in sunglasses and a leather jacket. Now get out of here."
The new leader of the group tapped her fingernails on the wall she was leaning on.
"Now, I don't think so, Gracey."
Ugh, she hated that nickname. The whole group had adopted it now, after Chelsea had invented it.
"You know you need to host a party. To make up for the misunderstanding. And also because we never see you - you're always stuck in here working or being paranoid. You don't even have any friends! Well, what do you say?"
Grace frowned.
"No. That's not happening." And she shut the door in their faces. Again.

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