Page 74 of Ice Covered Heart

Shelby’s breath came faster but…shorter at the same time. She breathed quickly but didn’t seem to be pulling in any actual air. Her chest burned. Nausea swirled in her gut.

And the yellow thread went to a picture of Margot. A smiling Margot as she lifted a tennis racquet high over her head.

Margot in the doorway. Facedown. Blood. Blood all around her.

The yellow yarn angled toward a picture of Shelby. Shelby, in front of a bonfire, holding a marshmallow as she laughed.

Nate had taken that picture of her.

“That’s the order of victims,” Shelby heard herself say. She tried to pull in a deeper breath because her lungs felt starved, but she couldn’t. “The yellow yarn tracks all around, starting at Nate and then going to all of the victims, one by one. In order.”

“Can’t be,” Jonah argued. “No one was ever sure who died first⁠—”

“He came in the den. Killed Kali first while she was watching TV. The Creature from the Black Lagoon.” Her voice sounded funny. She felt funny. Her face had started to tingle. “Then went to the kitchen. Killed Jenna while she was making popcorn. She…she always watched those old black and white movies with Kali.” Her heart seemed to slam into her chest with each word. Boom. Boom. Boom. “The rest of us were upstairs, so we didn’t hear Jenna fighting back.” The only thing that made sense to her. There had been defensive wounds on Jenna’s arms. She had fought.

Shelby pointed to the wall. To the path of the yellow yarn. “When you get to the top of the stairs, the order…going door to door is…was…the order was…” Her hand waved toward the photos. “Tonya. Aisha. Kim.” Her mouth was too dry. “Margot.” Almost a whisper. “Margot was next to me. I-I always liked to have a corner room. The room on the very end.” The end of the hallway.

Silence. Shelby wanted to stop looking at the pictures, but she couldn’t. Her heart pounded harder. Boom. Boom. Boom.

“Uh, am I the only one who is going to point this out?” Kimber’s voice was overly loud again. “Tiffany wrote ‘NOT GUILTY’ in big, red letters on Nate’s picture. The one right there in the middle.” She tried to poke it.

Jonah caught her hand. “Don’t touch evidence.” Then, frustrated, “You know what? I need you to leave, Kimber, now. I need you to leave this room.”

Shelby paid them no attention. She was too busy staring at the NOT GUILTY letters. Her chest burned. Her heart boomed.

Kimber marched out, heels clicking.

There was more silence. Heavy and suffocating.

NOT GUILTY.

Hunter’s hand closed around her shoulder.

She jumped and glanced back at him. He let her go.

“We should go, too,” he said. Hunter backed up a step. Another.

She felt frozen to the spot. Dizzy. Nauseous. Scared. Her heart still booming in her chest.

“Shelby?” Hunter extended his hand toward her.

Nodding quickly, she took his hand. She sort of lurched as they headed to the door because her legs weren’t working quite right.

“Why would Tiffany think Nate wasn’t guilty?” Jonah asked.

Her lurching steps slowed.

“Why?” he repeated.

She looked back at him. “I⁠—”

“How the hell would we know?” Hunter snapped. “But if I were you, detective, I’d go and have a nice long chat with Tiffany’s criminal psych professor.” He slashed a hand toward the murder wall. “Someone taught her how to make this. I’d start with that guy.” He led Shelby out of the dorm room.

She realized Jonah had never even asked them why they were there. He’d been too distracted.

The door clicked shut behind them. Her heart kept racing. Her breathing coming in shallow pants. The images on that murder wall flashed in her head, one after the other.

Her friends—they’d been so happy in those pictures. So alive. Smiling.