AMANDA

Amanda watched as Madison trudged back into the library with an exasperated look on her face. "I could have caught him, you know," Madison snapped at her. "Now he's loose in the mansion."

"You couldn't go after him alone," Amanda said simply.

"Oh please," Star said. "Who are you trying to fool? We all know why you stopped Madison."

Apparently nobody knew. They looked at Star in confusion.

She eyed the students incredulously. "Really? You don't know?"

Silence.

"You people are pathetic," she muttered. "Can't you see? She's trying to protect her boyfriend."

Amanda wasn't shaken. "He isn't my boyfriend. But he is someone who doesn't deserve his fellow students jumping to conclusions about him."

Star waved her hand dismissively. "Boyfriend, not your boyfriend--the details don't matter. All I'm trying to say is you don't want us to catch him."

Kathryn took a step in Amanda's direction. "Why don't you want us to?" she asked accusingly.

Amanda frowned. "Would everyone stop being so dramatic? Yes, I wanted to help him. That doesn't make me bad. He's probably not even the murderer. You all need to calm down and look at the situation rationally."

"What do you suggest, then?" Kathryn asked.

"Well, definitely no tying people up. We should find Stewart, bring him back here, and learn his side of the story. If we still suspect him, we can just keep a very close eye on him."

"Are you kidding?" James exclaimed. "That kid is dangerous! He's already murdered three people--"

"Two," Dwain interrupted. "Remember, we don't know about Roy."

"None of that matters," Amanda said. "We still don't know that Stewart is the murderer."

"So...about finding him and bringing him back," Madison said, turning the conversation back around. "Can we do that now? It makes me nervous having even a suspect loose somewhere."

"Of course," Amanda replied. "I'll go."

"No way," Star said. "How do we know you won't just help him escape again?"

Amanda opened her mouth to protest, but Kathryn stepped in. "She shouldn't be going alone anyway. Sticking together will keep us safe. Who would like to go, besides Amanda?"

"Me," Madison said immediately.

"I'll go, too," James said.

Star and Heather offered themselves as well, and the group headed off through the mansion. Along the way, they discussed where they thought they should head first.

"The criminal always returns to the scene of the crime," James said. "I'll bet he's at the pond where he killed Rick."

Star made a face. "Can we not talk about that?"

Madison shook her head at James's comment. "He wouldn't be at the pond. He was heading upstairs."

"Then we'll look there," Amanda decided. "Come on."

The party navigated the halls, mounted the stairs, and arrived at the top floor. Heather lingered near the stairs. Her eyes flicked nervously around in the dim light, and she shifted uneasily on her feet.

"What is it?" Madison asked impatiently, turning back to her.

"J. Q. King's still in his office," Heather whispered.

"Yeah," James said. "And his corpse is probably already decaying and dissolving into the carpet...."

Star cleared her throat and shot him a piercing glare that instantly silenced him.

Heather took a deep breath. "I'm fine with everything else. I'm just not looking forward to seeing a dead body."

Nobody was. But they had to go. After a little nudging and persuasion from the others, Heather continued down the dark hallway.

Eventually, the dreaded moment came; they had arrived at the office door. Madison pushed her way to the front of the group and opened the door.

Heather closed her eyes and turned her head after her first glimpse of J. Q. King, and so did Star. The few who dared to keep their eyes open were met with another shocking sight.

"What the--?" Madison exclaimed, frozen in place.

"Stewart!" Amanda yelled. She ran to where Stewart sat at the desk, head lolled to one side, his eyes closed. A pile of rubble covered the desk in front of him, and on top of that, to Amanda's horror, lay the horribly familiar Joker card.

When Heather opened her eyes, she saw the scene at the desk and let out a strangled yelp. Star stood still, her eyes wide.

Amanda pulled Stewart's chair away from the desk and turned him to face her. She felt in front of his nose and was relieved to feel moving air. "He's breathing," she announced.

At first Amanda didn't see any injuries. But when she inspected him further, she found what was wrong.

"His hands," she whispered, gently touching them.

Stewart groaned and turned his head to the other side.

"What happened?" Madison asked, eyes on the hole in the ceiling.

Amanda surveyed the scene. "I would guess," she said, "that Stewart was sitting at the desk, and someone tried to make the ceiling fall on him." She picked up the joker from the pile of rubble. "See. It was intentional."

"Wait a second," Star said, walking over quickly. "Does that mean that Stewart isn't...?"

"The murderer? That's what it looks like," Amanda agreed.

Heather was distressed. "It's horrible," she choked. "We were so convinced that it was him....He left. He was alone. And now he's hurt."

"It's our fault," Madison said.

James leaned over and pulled the card from Amanda's fingers. He looked at it and nodded. "It's the murderer, all right." He turned it over for the rest of the students to see. "Look, there's writing. 'Now he will be silenced for good.'" He snorted slightly. "Yeah right. You missed," he said to the ceiling as if the murderer were still there.

Their heads turned as Stewart stirred in his seat. He shook his head deliberately, still not opening his eyes.

"What's he shaking his head about?" Star asked. "James is right; he's not dead, and he should be happy about it."

Amanda took another look at the words on the card. "That's not what it means," she said.

"Excuse me?" Star said.

"Don't you see?" Amanda said gravely. "He has been silenced. He's mute. He can't talk. So how does he communicate?"

Heather gasped. "Oh no," she stammered. "You're right. He can't tell us anything. He knew sign language, and he could write things for us to read. But the murderer killed his translator, and now he can't even use his hands."

"Yeah, and he was probably just starting to figure everything out," Madison muttered.

"We're all going to die!" Star cried.

Amanda looked around the room with a heavy heart. J. Q. King's boy still lay in the corner. Stewart was seriously injured. Around the desk stood five students, all wearing the same hopeless expressions. And the one who had caused it was still out of their reach.

But she couldn't let them give up. "We're not going to die," Amanda said with as much confidence as she could muster. "The murderer must want something besides senseless violence."

"Then let's just stay out of the way," James suggested.

"Or we could get to it first," said Madison determinedly.

"Both ideas to consider," Amanda said. "But for now, I think our top priority is getting Stewart some help."

The students nodded in agreement. Amanda and Madison, who were the tallest there, each draped one of Stewart's arms over their shoulders and lifted him to his feet, careful not to touch or move his hands.

As she lifted, Amanda noticed Stewart's right hand closed over a crumpled ball of paper. She extricated it gingerly from his fingers and held it in her own hand. Whatever was on it was indistinguishable because of the dust and blood that covered it. But with some cleaning, Amanda was certain she could find out what it was--what had been so important to Stewart and so important to the Joker.

Whatever it is, it must mean something, Amanda decided. She shoved it into her pocket, then took up her share of Stewart's weight as the students began their walk to the nurse's office.