33. Logan

33LOGAN

I thought I was the ghost, but I should have known: I’m the one being haunted. And the parade of ghosts keeps getting bigger. Graham. Zane. McKayleigh.

Jenna.

I met her a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday in April—the same birthday when Zane and I first kissed, the night that pushed the first domino that sent all the rest of them tumbling. Happy fucking birthday to me.

In a cosmic turn of events, Jenna and I had the exact same birthday. Aries queens, she said, because like Zane, she believed in astrology. Maybe she was onto something, some star-crossed bullshit, but besides being born on the same day, we were totally different.

Jenna Hyatt barely cleared five feet. She had the kind of curves that I used to cry about wanting, when I would buy push-up bras to turn the skin around my clavicle into something people would want. She had strawberry-blond hair cut to her chin, and normally, McKayleigh couldn’t stand someone else being the redhead, but Jenna was the exception—because Jenna was hard not to like. She was bubbly and feminine and easygoing. None of that anger I carried around like sharp stones in my pockets, like scales on my skin.

But there were two ways Jenna and I were the same. First: no one was looking out for us. And second: Zane chose us, probably for that exact reason.

I look up from the necklace in my hand to everyone staring at me, waiting.

“Jenna ran away from home,” I tell them. “She’d been living on her own in LA since she was sixteen. Pretending she was older. She wanted to be an actor or a writer or something like that. She was never that specific. Mostly, she worked at a bar. That’s how Zane met her.”

I shiver, thinking of the way he talked about her when he came home that night, scrolling through her socials for all of us to see. Her TikToks were mostly of her dancing or lip-syncing along to whatever sound was going around that week, but Zane’s whole face had lit up.

She has It,he’d said. “It,” capital I. The same “It” that he used to think I had.

“He started bringing her around the house, but it was this big top-secret thing. He didn’t want to make anything official until we were all on board with making her a member.”

That was how it worked: we were a team. Our decisions were unanimous, at least on paper. And they all got on board quick. Graham decided that Jenna was cool because they both liked this one underground punk band and hate-watching The Real Housewives. McKayleigh warmed up to Jenna after the first night she drank with us—probably because they spent a good hour of it together in the bathroom, Jenna gently touching McKayleigh’s face and telling her she was so beautiful it should be illegal, in that way that only drunk girls and especially drunk Jenna love to do, just spilling over with love for everything.

Meanwhile, I sat on the sink counter, staring at Jenna and wondering what it was about her that had Zane so obsessed. Jenna was pretty, prettier than me, but she wasn’t, like, Elody hot, the kind that stops every person who’s ever been even a little attracted to women in their tracks. Jenna, as far as I could tell, was just a normal girl.

But as much as I wanted to hate her, I couldn’t. Because there was a part of me that wished she’d brush her fingers over my cheeks and tell me stupid crap about how pretty I am, too. More than that, I wanted Zane to stop looking at me, through me, like I ceased to matter the second I wouldn’t give him what he wanted. I wanted Graham and McKayleigh to stop ignoring me. I wanted to be a girl who, for once, didn’t make a scene. So, when Zane finally sat me down and asked me what my problem was, I told him I didn’t have one. I voted yes. We took Jenna in with open arms and open bottles.

“It happened in May,” I tell them. “The night before we were going to officially announce her as a member.” I close my fist around her necklace, feeling the cool metal of the J press into my palm. “We had a party.”

It was one of my favorite kind of nights: cold enough for a hoodie, but warm enough to hang out outside. We were by the pool, the hills sloping down from our house like we lived in some annoyingly perfect mythological kingdom in the sky.

Normally, the house was full, other creators coming in and out in a never-ending parade that I used to think was exciting, until it got exhausting, not knowing whose hair that was in the shower, whose toothpaste left in the sink. But that night, it was just the five of us: Zane, Graham, McKayleigh, Jenna, and me. It was the first time in weeks that they didn’t act suddenly busy the second I walked in, that they didn’t treat me like I was invisible. Deep down, I knew it was because Zane wanted everyone on their best behavior for Jenna, to make us seem like the best of friends, but it felt good anyway. For a few minutes, at least.

I can still picture the exact moment in my head. Zane leaning in, brushing his mouth against Jenna’s ear so I could practically feel the ghost of his stubble on my own skin. His hand on the small of her back, her laugh, the two of them going back into the house. The drop of a stone in my stomach, the glitch in the simulation. I’d been lying to myself all night, telling myself it wasn’t going to happen, and then it was right there in front of me, bright and twisted.

Well,Graham said, once they were gone, looks like that’s finally happening.

McKayleigh laughed. Thank goodness. He needs to get it out of his system.

Out of his system, like Jenna was a stomach bug and not a girl. Is that what Zane thought of me? That once he got what he wanted, he’d discard me like the out-of-season clothes he pretended to donate?

Is that what he was going to do to Jenna?

I took a long pull of my drink, letting it burn all the way down. Then I stood up and stormed away.

What’s your deal?McKayleigh quipped behind me, but there was something fearful in it. Of course. She was probably worried I was about to do something stupid and overdramatic, just to ruin the whole night. Maybe I was. To be honest, I didn’t know what I was going to do yet—only that I couldn’t let Zane do to Jenna what he did to me. Not again.

So, I mumbled something about getting a drink and trudged back to the house. Someone’s footsteps followed.

You okay?Graham, his voice soft.

Back then, I thought he was afraid, like McKayleigh was, that I’d ruin everything with Jenna. Now, I wish I’d told him the truth: I wasn’t okay, and I didn’t know if I would be. Maybe if I had told him what really happened on my birthday, he would have realized that Zane had twisted the story. We could have put the pieces together and figured out that Zane was the real villain all along. Maybe then, none of this would have happened. Maybe Graham would still be here.

But instead, I told him, Yeah. Fine.

Now, tears blur my vision again. I swipe them away with my fist, Jenna’s necklace going warm in my sweaty palm.

“Zane and Jenna went off together, and I was worried about what he might do, so I followed them.”

I don’t know what made me do it, what gave me the courage. Maybe the shot I knocked back before going upstairs. Maybe the pure rage blazing through my veins as I marched to his locked bedroom door.

But when I got there, I was frozen by a too-familiar sound. Voices, getting louder and angrier. Breath shuddering, I pressed my ear to the door and listened.

What the fuck, Jenna?Echoes of the way he’d yelled at me, the absolute disgust and disbelief when I wouldn’t give him what he felt entitled to. Did you think you would get away with this shit?

And then Jenna, quiet but strong, so much stronger than him: Did you?

“She found out that Zane had been grooming girls,” I say. “Jenna was going to expose him.”

It wasn’t until I heard it in Jenna’s own words that I really understood what had been happening to me. To the other girls. I’d seen them—pretty and shining, showing up to our parties flushed with excitement and the drinks Zane pressed into their hands before taking them into his room. Most of the girls came during my early months at the Bounce House, and I was too drunk on the glamour of it all to see what was so clearly wrong. I assumed the girls were older than me. I was even jealous of them—the way Zane gently touched their hips, guiding them through his door, to the hidden part of him I thought I’d never see. Until I did. Until I realized he hid it for a reason.

“When they went off to his room, Jenna was secretly recording him. She pretended to be into him just to get a confession or something, but he caught her. And then…”

I wasn’t really afraid until the fighting stopped.

Jenna wouldn’t back down. She was going to do it, she told him. She had the proof and he couldn’t stop her—she was only giving him a chance to come clean on his own. Her voice was building and building, not stopping even as Zane told her to shut up, until suddenly, she made this startled noise. Then, nothing. In the quiet, I could hear my heart pounding. I strained until I heard it: Zane grunting, and something muffled and terrifying. Something that sounded like a girl trying to scream.

My grip flew to the doorknob as I shouted her name. Locked. I yelled again, pulling and pulling, my hands slipping, until the door finally swung open.

Zane, red-faced and breathing heavily, his hair falling out of his bun and around his face. In every other way, he looked like he just did one of his workouts, except for the look in his eyes. Not even feral or wild. Just cold. Calm.

Zane, what the fuck did you—

I stopped when I saw her. On the bed, limp like a doll, one of Zane’s stupid sustainable luxury pillows covering her face.

Before I could speak through the startled tightness of my throat, I heard the door open downstairs, footsteps coming inside.

Logan, you better not be cockblocking right now!McKayleigh giggled, the cursing a telltale sign that she was drunk.

Graham shushed her. Their footsteps neared the stairs, my mind swimming as Zane just stared at me with that cool, unbothered expression.

I’m serious!McKayleigh called. What are you—

She and Graham came into view then, stopping cold at the bottom of the stairs.

What’s going on?Graham asked, looking frantically between me and Zane.

Something about it snapped me back into my senses. I pushed forward, but Zane was a concrete wall, holding me in place with his giant hands.

She’s hurt,I told him stupidly, like I didn’t know he’d done this to her. We have to do something. We have to—

The slap was sharp and hot, leaving me stunned, hand on my cheek.

For the first time, Zane looked afraid.

She was going to ruin everything,he said. I had to make her stop. Logan, she was going to destroy us.

Now, I’m still too afraid to look into everyone’s eyes as I tell them the truth. “He killed her.”

Even then, when the undeniable proof was lying motionless on the bed, Zane tried to spin things. He gave us all of his best excuses: Jenna was threatening him. She was going to get us canceled, arrested. When she lunged at him, he was just acting out of self-defense. For all of us. As Zane droned on, I finally broke out of the stupor his slap had put me in and pulled my phone out of my pocket, fingers hovering over the screen.

We could still call for help,I said. We could come up with something. We don’t have to tell them that you—

They can’t help her,Zane decided. And we’re not bringing anyone else into this.

It didn’t really hit me until then. Jenna was dead. Zane killed her while I listened, helpless. No, not helpless. I could have done something. Kicked down the door, called for help, but I didn’t. I couldn’t save her.

Graham reached for his phone. No fucking way.

Zane lunged forward, pulling at the phone as Graham clutched it tighter.

You killed her!Graham screamed.

And you’re an accomplice.Zane finally wrestled the phone out of Graham’s hand, breathing hard as he looked around the room. All of you.

Like hell we are,McKayleigh snapped. This is your mess. Not ours.

Zane came closer, making her shrink.

You think anyone will ever work with us again if this gets out? We’re dead. All of us.

Reaching through the fear, my stunned silence, I found my voice again. But you killed her.

Zane spun to me, and I flinched. He was going to hit me again, I thought. But instead, he pulled me into a hug, his breath hot on my neck.

You know what happens if we tell someone about this, right? This is over. Everything we’ve built together.He squeezed tighter and then let go, leaving me cold as something like clarity flashed in his eyes. But we can fix this.

“It was Zane’s idea to move her,” I tell everyone now. “She was gone, and we couldn’t … we didn’t…”

Corinne nods, her stare searing into me. “Right. Because murder would be pretty bad for the brand, wouldn’t it?”

“It was him,” I argue. “He killed her. Not us.”

Even as I say it, I know it’s bullshit. We didn’t have to let him get away with this. But we were all under his spell.

“What did you do next?” Kira asks, her face hard.

I swallow. “Zane had a boat. We drove her out to the marina, went out a bit into the water, and…”

Staring at the necklace again, I realize for the first time that this probably isn’t even Jenna’s. That one went with her. Jenna told us she bought it from some cheap stand at the Santa Monica Pier when she first came to California.

“And that was it.” I sniff, wiping at my nose. “The next day, I packed my shit and left.”

The thing I still can’t say aloud: that day, as I closed the Bounce House door behind me for the last time, I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Six months as a full-time influencer makes you money, sure, but not the kind you can live off of for years, especially when you don’t even have a high-school diploma. It’s not the kind of money that can buy you a new apartment, a car, and still leave you enough to help your mom out. To send money to Harper, for the things Mom can’t give her.

Walking down the long Bounce House driveway was the start of a free fall that hasn’t ended until now, this moment like a final crash against hard ground.

“That was it,” Corinne repeats, cold. “No one ever came looking for her? No one had any idea?”

I shake my head, more tears spilling out. “None of us really knew where she came from, but it didn’t seem like … I don’t think she had anyone looking for her. I don’t know if Jenna was even her real name.” I shove the necklace back in my pocket and look at them, tears stinging. “But I swear I’m not the one doing this. I’m not the Sponsor.”

Max looks like he doesn’t believe a word I’ve said. “Logan, you’re the only one here with a motive to—”

“I know. But I didn’t kill them. I wanted to get as far from them as possible, forget it ever happened. I just—” I close my eyes, wiping the mess of tears from my face. “I need you guys to believe me.”

It hangs there. The silence is like a kick in my stomach. They think I did this. And I don’t think I blame them.

Aaron clears his throat. “Okay, not to be a jerk, but I’m starting to think this is all a little unfair. I mean, the Sponsor’s clearly after Logan and the rest of the Bounce House for actual murder, and whatever the rest of us did, there’s no way it’s on that level.” He pauses, his lips pressing into a thin white line. “Unless anyone has anything they want to clear up?”

No one talks.

“We’re going to die.” Elody laughs, shaky and scared. “Oh my god, we’re literally all going to die.”

“We’re not going to die,” Kira says softly, but even she doesn’t sound convinced anymore.

I run my hands over Jenna’s necklace, or whoever’s necklace this really is, thinking that I don’t feel any different. Finally, I told the truth, let go of the thing I’ve been dragging around for months, but I just feel heavier, like the air of this room is too thick and warm, and even with all the space, these high ceilings, I’m trapped in a tiny box and I can’t breathe.

Max reaches into his pocket, glancing down as he does, and I catch a flash of something black and shiny.

And then I snap.

“What the fuck is that?”

He looks at me, eyes glazed. “I…”

“You recorded that!”

Max doesn’t even try to deny it this time.

I manage a bitter laugh. “We might all get murdered, and all you care about is getting it on tape.” And then the thought leaks into my mind like bile. “But maybe that’s the whole point.” I gesture at the cameras around us. “This would be a pretty messed-up way to get your documentary content, but I’m starting to think you don’t give a shit.”

“Are you kidding me?” Max erupts. “You’re not about to accuse me of murder when you just confessed to dumping a girl’s body in the ocean. I didn’t do anything. I don’t even know why I’m here!”

He says it so genuinely, like he believes it. Like he’s perfect. Just like Zane. And then all I can think of is Max’s hands around my wrist, trying to take Jenna’s necklace from me, and I don’t think they’re that different at all, actually. Him and Zane.

I march over and grab his camera bag from where it’s sitting on the ground.

Max reaches for me, but I jerk away.

“This is what you want, right?” I pull the zipper hard and take out the camera. “Might as well get video, too, while you’re at it.”

I throw the camera, and he lunges, catching it just before it hits the ground. Too bad. Maybe it’s wrong, but all I want right now is destruction, shattered pieces.

And then I notice the crumpled-up papers inside the camera bag. I grab and unfold them.

Shock jolts through his expression, and then panic.

“Wait,” he starts. “I don’t know what—”

And then I see what’s on the page. It takes me a second to compute, to really understand what’s happening here. When I do, I try to laugh, but it comes out as more of a rattle.

“Max Overby, you fucking hypocrite.”