“You’re being a freak, Stevie,” Ellie said, but there was a tremble in her voice. “Get the hell out of my room. Everyone get the hell out of my room.”

“Something else,” Stevie said. “Sometime between the time Hayes died and the time I went into his room, someone had taken his computer. That person shoved it under the tub. It left three scratches down the front. Those scratches weren’t there before. There’s proof.”

“Stevie . . . ,” Janelle said, her voice fearful. “What’s going on?”

But Stevie had gone down the road now, and there was no going back. There was a thick atmosphere in the dark room, with the stink of old patchouli and paint. There was no coming back from this night, this sudden drilling into Ellie’s background and Hayes’s life and death. If she was wrong about this, she would have to pack up and go. She felt like someone walking out onto the branch of a tree, feeling it bounce and give under each step.

And she loved the feeling.

“One more thing. Beth Brave. She was Skyping with Hayes at the time Hayes was supposed to have been removing the dry ice from the workshop. Did he know about the dry ice? Was it his idea?”

Ellie’s face had taken on the cast of one of the masks on the wall of the ballroom—features wide, long, stretched in emotion.

“Get out of my room,” Ellie said. “Everyone get out of my room.”

David had shifted and was now half squatting. Janelle was moving back toward the wall. Nate, however, was like a rock, watching all of this with folded arms.

“Stevie,” David said slowly, “you know this thing that you’re saying is kind of intense?”

“I know,” she said.

“So you’d have to be pretty sure . . .”

“I am.”

“So I helped him with his show,” Ellie said. “God! I helped him with his show.”

The first piece slid into place.

“The movie,” Stevie said. “He was going to go to Hollywood and work with P. G. Edderton and take all the credit.”

“So? Do you think I wanted people to know I helped make a zombie show? I just needed money for Roota.”

“So why did you take his computer?” Stevie said. “The police were here. You had to see if there was evidence on there about your involvement because you knew . . .”

“I knew it didn’t look good. Hayes . . . Hayes said all kinds of dumb shit. Hayes did dumb things and he died and I’m sad about it and now you all need to get out.”

When no one moved, she got up herself, snatching her bag from the floor.

“Ellie,” David said, getting up and following her, “where are you going?”

He reached out for her, but she yanked away her arm. She hurried down the hall to the common room and was at the door in a moment.

Stevie scrambled to her feet and followed. Ellie threw open the door and hurried outside . . .

. . . right into Larry.

“I texted him about fifteen minutes ago,” Nate said, coming up behind Stevie. “I kind of didn’t want you to get us all killed.”

“Fair,” Stevie said, slumping against the wall. “That’s fair.”

The residents of Minerva were taken as a group to the Great House, where everyone was loaded into Albert Ellingham’s office. The night closed in around the house, and Larry drew the heavy curtains.

Charles looked like he’d been woken up and was dressed in a pair of jeans and a cashmere sweater. Dr. Quinn was also present, wearing a stark black dress and looking like she had been called back from some other affair. Pix came down with them and oversaw the proceedings in an oversized sweater and army pants.

Ellie compacted herself into one of Albert Ellingham’s leather chairs, tucking her head into her knees. The events of the evening were recounted. When Stevie was finished, the room was silent for several moments.

“Element,” Charles said, finally speaking, “did you help Hayes write the show?”

“Sure,” Ellie said. “Fine. I helped him with his show. Who cares?”

“Didn’t that show make a lot of money?” Larry said.

“I have no idea,” she said. “I don’t care about money. I grew up on a commune. This isn’t about money. Not for me.”

“What’s this mean?” Charles asked.

“Just . . . this. Whatever.”

“Did you take Hayes’s computer?” Larry asked.

“I don’t want to talk about this. This is bullshit.”

“Element,” Larry said. “Did you take his computer? It’s a simple question.”

“I looked at it,” she said.

“Why?”

No answer.

“Did you put the dry ice in the tunnel?” Larry asked.

“No,” Ellie mumbled from her knees.

“There’s something here you aren’t saying,” Larry said. “You need to explain to us what’s going on. This is serious.”

Ellie pulled herself upright suddenly. Her eyes were full and tears were starting to run down her face.

“God, he was so dumb. Why did I pay attention to him?”

“What do you mean?” Larry pressed.

“This whole place,” she said, shaking her head and smiling grimly. “This whole place. Hayes and his stupid ideas. That’s what got him killed, his stupid ideas.”

“I have real concerns about going on with this,” Dr. Quinn said, raising a hand. “Ellie, I think you should stop speaking until we get you representation. And everyone else, let’s get you out of here.”

“I agree,” Charles said. “I’m going to call our general counsel and have them come here to consult with you. Larry, if you could take the others back to Minerva . . .”

Larry went over to say something quietly just to Charles and Dr. Quinn.

“Okay,” Charles said. “Dr. Pixwell, if you could take everyone to the teachers’ lounge. They can use the guest rooms if anyone needs to go to sleep.”

“We can’t go home?” Nate said.

“Let’s just keep everyone here for a while,” Dr. Quinn said. “Until we sort this out.”

“What, am I under arrest?” Ellie said. “Is Larry arresting me?”

“No,” Larry said. “And I agree. Let’s wait for the lawyer, Element. You wait in here, all right? Just sit tight.”

The change was a stark one—from a group of students recounting a dorm room conversation to the school administration, to full names and calling for a lawyer. Ellie suddenly looked very small and a bit wild, her eyes red and bright.

“I’m leaving,” she said, standing up.

“Element,” Larry said in a warning tone.

“You can’t keep me here.”

“Ellie,” Charles said, stepping in. His voice was calming. “I know this is frightening. But we’re getting you help. The very best thing you can do is be calm and sit. If you stay and talk to the lawyer, things will be better, but if you leave now . . .”

“There’s nowhere to go,” Dr. Quinn said. “We’re on a mountain and it’s the middle of the night. Ellie, sit.”

Ellie sat.

“We’ll get you something to drink, something to eat,” Charles said. “How about that? You could use it. Pix, could you . . .”