37. Kira

37KIRA

Our heads all snap to the sound of the gunshot. My room. Our room, where Elody went alone. And Aaron …

I run, and their footsteps are behind me, all of us synced to the same rhythm: the gun the gun the gun. At the top of the stairs, I freeze, breathing hard and staring at the closed door. Fear settles into my bones. Aaron and Elody. Behind that door, one of them could be dead.

And one of them has the gun.

Max gets to the top of the stairs last, a kitchen knife gripped in his hand. Graham’s limp body flashes through my mind, and a fresh wave of fear pumps through me. But Max has the right idea. We may need to protect ourselves.

I look at Corinne, and she nods, her flashlight casting shadows that shift like flames on the wall.

I knock on the door.

“Elody? Aaron?” I’m surprised at how calmly my voice comes out.

For a second, nothing. And then, footsteps. The door creaking open.

Elody stands with the gun in her shaking hand, a blank look on her face. Then she breaks, sobs racking through her.

With a jolt of adrenaline, I push the door open, and in the beam of Corinne’s flashlight, I see him: Aaron lying on his back, blood blooming through his shirt around his chest. His eyes are wide open, lifelessly staring up at the ceiling. There’s a red trickle at the corner of his mouth.

“I didn’t mean to.” Elody’s voice is wet and thick from tears. “He had the gun on me, and then—”

“Wait, Aaron had the gun?” Max moves toward her.

Elody’s hand tightens around the gun, and he freezes, hands half-raised like she might shoot again.

Then, the gun thuds to the floor. Empty-handed, Elody holds her arms tightly around her ribs, shaking with tears until Max puts the knife in his pocket and cautiously wraps his arms around her. It’s an unexpected flash of the boy he was last night, gentle and safe, but I can’t forget the version of him I just saw outside: desperate, believing he deserves to be forgiven even though he still hasn’t apologized, at least not for the right things.

Corinne grabs the fallen gun and turns on the safety.

“It was him,” she says, staring at the weapon like it might not be real. “Aaron was the Sponsor.”

Elody nods, pulling away from Max and wiping her face.

“What happened?” I ask.

“He came up here and told me he knew who the Sponsor was. But then…” Elody winces. “It happened so fast. He just pushed me up against the wall and told me not to scream. And then he had the gun out of nowhere.”

Thunder cracks, and Logan takes a sharp breath, leaning against the wall like she can’t stand up on her own.

“But why?” I keep my gaze on Aaron’s feet. His boat shoes, the faded leather toes pointed at the ceiling. “Why did he do this?”

“Because he was insane?” Elody wipes her face, sounding more like her usual self. “Like, I didn’t really ask. Once the gun was out, I wasn’t about to let him do a whole speech, or whatever.”

Max is still standing awkwardly at Elody’s side. For half a second, I’m sorry that I ever thought he was capable of murder, but when he glances at me, the anger starts to boil again. Max may not be a killer, but he’s still a hypocrite. He’s still a liar.

“I still don’t get it,” Corinne says. “Why would he do all this? Just to get back at Graham’s dad?”

Elody bites her lip and sits on the foot of her bed, looking like she’s not sure if she should tell us.

“What?” I ask.

“There was more. Just before…” She flinches, shutting her eyes. “Before anything happened with the gun, he told me what really happened with Graham. Apparently, they were, like, friends when they were kids, which is how Aaron got signed by Graham’s dad. They were both going to the same auditions and stuff, but Aaron was doing better. Then, he got The Magnificent Millers, and when it started blowing up, Graham got jealous that Aaron was getting famous first, or whatever, so he ratted Aaron out for drinking on set. That’s why Aaron got fired. Graham’s dad dropped him as a client, got him blackballed, and then … you know. Aaron spiraled. Got a DUI, let his whole life go to shit.”

A sick feeling starts to gnaw at me.

“But why would he bring the rest of us here?” I ask.

“I wasn’t making up that stuff about Aaron trying to get into the Bounce House,” Logan says. “I had no idea he and Graham had a history, but he obviously hated us.”

“But why the rest of us?” I ask. “We don’t have anything to do with the Bounce House.”

“Does it matter?” Elody asks. “Like, he’s dead. Can’t we just…”

A new wave of tears chokes her up before she can finish.

“We should have known,” Max says. “This whole thing is like Aaron’s channel on steroids. He always wanted to expose people, but he never had any real ammo. Until now, I guess.”

It all sounds so logical, but something still feels off, like walking into a room and finding the furniture slightly rearranged. Aaron killed four people. It had to be something more than just jealousy or anger or hating Graham that made him do this. But maybe there wasn’t. Maybe this isn’t like the crimes you hear about on a podcast, something to dissect and digest in an hour. Maybe there’s no explanation.

Logan rests her head against the wall, closing her eyes. Tears start to spill quietly down her cheeks, and it’s not until now that it really hits me: the Sponsor’s dead. It’s over. Now all we have to do is get home.

Lightning strobes the relieved, exhausted faces around me before hiding them again in shadow. Corinne’s the only one who doesn’t look any calmer. Her eyes are dark, haunted.

“We need to get into the safe,” she says, standing. “Come on.”

Following her flashlight, we make our way back downstairs and to the kitchen, where the safe still sits on the counter.

“How should we do this?” she asks. “The keypad’s just numbers.”

We settle on the basic alphabet conversion: A is one, B is two, and so on. After writing out the list, Corinne starts punching in numbers, starting with Aaron’s first name. But when she presses ENTER, the safe flashes red. She tries again with his full name, but still nothing.

“Does anyone know his birthday?” Corinne asks.

No one does.

“Seriously? No one has, like, any idea?” Elody looks around. “God. No wonder he wanted to kill us.”

It’s a half-hearted joke, trailing away into the heavy silence of the room.

“Can’t we get in another way?” Max asks. “Like break the lock, or something?”

An idea jumps into my head. “Aaron was hiding the gun somewhere, right?”

“I mean, yeah,” Elody says, looking sick at the mention of it. “Probably. But, like, what does that have to do with…?”

“He must have had a hiding spot somewhere. If we find it, maybe we’ll find a phone or something, too.” I look at Elody. “Do you remember where Aaron was right before he came up to your room?”

She scrunches up her face. “Um…”

“The bathroom,” Corinne says. “The downstairs one. That’s where he went when we were all going outside, right?”

“Ew. Why would he hide it there?” Elody asks.

“Let’s just look.” Corinne walks to the bathroom, and we all follow.

Inside, she kneels to open the cabinets beneath the sink, while Max looks behind the shower curtain. I go for the other cabinets, aiming my light inside, but they’re empty aside from basic bathroom stuff: extra hand soap, lotion, old rusty rings made by the bottoms of old bottles and jars.

Corinne looks up at me. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” I say.

She stands up, her focus shifting to a frame on the wall. It’s a watercolor painting of the island, the house. Corinne’s eyes narrow, and she moves closer, reaching her fingers around the edge of the frame. For a moment, she hesitates. Then, she pulls. With a small sucking sound, the frame hinges away from the wall like a door.

Oh my god. It is a door, opening to a little hidey-hole the size of the frame. But it’s empty. I lean against the sink, limp with disappointment.

A laugh bubbles from just outside of the open bathroom door.

“What?” Elody asks Logan, frowning.

“Nothing. It’s just…” She wipes under her eyes, laughing so hard they’re watering. “You just killed the only person who actually knows how to get us out of here.”