TIRAN GAWKED AT ME. "Huh?" he said, confused before laughing. "W-what did I d-do?" He lost that cocky relaxed demeanor real fast.

I met his gaze head-on. "You've been lying to us from the very beginning."

"What?" he said, spluttering. "Me? Lying?"

"Yeah, what do you mean?" Gmie straightened out her freshly ironed silk blouse, shifting it back into place over her skater skirt. "You can't accuse people without proof."

My eyes connected with hers. "Oh, I do have proof." A spark lit between our gazes, a secret challenge forming between us. Whoever turned away first lost.

So, we squared off, silent. A minute passed before I almost caved, but Tini slipped out like a gentle breeze, hardening my gaze until Gmie became flustered and looked away.

I cleared my throat, turning back to Tiran. "You laugh when you lie or get nervous. I've noticed that about you over the past couple days. You did it again just now."

Tiran went to laugh again but stopped himself. "S-so what?"

"When we first arrived here and got our clues, you instantly started laughing, telling us that they were caffeine pills." I showed everyone a picture of the pills up close on my iPad before going to my google search. "They're not. They're roofies. They look alike, but the markings on top give it away."

Everyone leaned in, looking at the pictures of the two sets of pills.

I zoomed in so that they could see the tiny markings on top. "Tiran told us that he was a med student, which means the pills were probably easy to get."

Jerking back, Gmie squared her shoulders like she was a lawyer about to deliver a good argument. "Okay, so what? He sold roofies. People sell dangerous drugs all the time on the streets. Yaz would know. That's her neighborhood."

Yaz rose up from the recliner like a queen about to take action. "Look here, Betty Cooper, you're gonna keep my name out your mouth before I smack the shit out of you."

Demo turned toward Yaz, fist clenching. "You're not going to touch her. You have to go through me first." Perfect English.

"Ooh, look who knows how to speak now?" Yaz said before smirking. "Guess we have another liar in the bunch."

Demo froze, eyes circling the room. "Umm — I-I..."

Gmie came to her defense. "She never said she didn't speak English."

Yaz cocked her head, pushing her glasses up on her nose. "When we first met her, she said that she barely spoke English. That she could only understand it."

Some slight pinkness colored Demo's cheeks. "Okay, so I lied. I didn't know any of you yet, and I wanted to get a feel for all of you first."

"Why should I believe that? You lied before," Yaz said, eyeing her before turning to Gmie. "Especially when you protect this ignorant ass hoe."

"For your information, my cherry is still intact, thank you very much. So, I am not a hoe," Gmie said, pushing back her shoulders. "Only my husband will have my virtue."

Yaz gave her a mocking smile. "Ha, prissy bitches like you usually do it up the ass to save their virtue."

Gmie gasped, clenching her skirt. "I'd never do something so — low class."

"Don't knock it till you tried it," Chi said with a shrug.

I didn't think she meant to say that out loud because she immediately clamped her mouth shut and pretended to study her fingernails.

"Is everything low class to you?" Yaz leered at Gmie. "How do we know that you're not just some country bumpkin, pretending to be all ritzy and uppity."

Gmie arched her back. "I'm a McWalten. We are one of the richest families in the country. We're friends with Donald Trump."

Yaz chuckled. "Yeah. Knowing Trump is a great selling point."

Gmie scoffed. "Of course, someone like you wouldn't understand anything about being rich and classy. You're poor ghetto trash."

"And you're —" Yaz started but was cut off.

Sebastian slapped his hands together, bringing the attention to him. He swiped some blonde hair out of his face, eyes fixated on the arguing girls. "Can we please do this later? We need to finish the voting session."

Yaz stomped back over to the recliner while Demo sat back down. Gmie kept her back arched, still glaring at Yaz.

"So, where were we?" Sebastian asked, looking around.

"Tiran sells roofies," Jookie said, tone almost bored.

"So what —" Gmie started with a scowl, but Yaz cut her off.

"Let Tiran speak. You're not his lawyer or anyone else's here," Yaz said, voice rising. "I'm tired of your mouth, and I don't think I'm the only one. Shut up the fuck up. Your voice is fucking annoying."

Demo looked like she wanted to pound Yaz's face in, but Gmie touched her hand, holding her back.

Everyone turned to Tiran, waiting for him to speak.

He coughed, fingers scratching his pants like he had a nasty bed bug itch. "Umm-m yeah, I sold them," he said before laughing. "I needed m-money. And — and it's s-still not as bad as her." He pointed to Chi. "She p-poisoned people. And Rucker killed people before. I'm not as bad as them."

I leaned over the edge of the recliner. "Really? I saw your room."

He paled. "Whah?"

"I saw it the first night here," I said, clicking off my iPad. "When you opened your door, I saw an image of a girl passed out on your wall. She looked like she had severe alcohol poisoning or maybe she overdosed. That's when I decided to google your college."

Thick gobs of sweat dewed Tiran's forehead, skin becoming blotchy. "Okay."

"Apparently, your college has a big date-rape problem and the administration keeps covering it up," I said, watching him. "And the female students have gotten sick of it and started protesting recently."

Tiran gulped, scratching his pants harder. The rough noise of his nails on denim echoed throughout the tense atmosphere.

I stared at him, giving him a hard look. "There's even a website up where girls can post their personal stories and experiences," I said, pulling up the site. "One of the stories was rather interesting. A girl named Becky said that she went to a frat party and was dancing with this boy. She liked him, so she didn't think twice when he offered to get her a drink. And that's the last thing she remembered. When she finally came to, she was in a hospital. Two fellow students brought her in because some brown-haired guy was sexually assaulting her behind the library, and they chased him away."

He chuckled, still scratching. "So? What does that have to do with me? Do you know how many 'brown-haired' guys go to my school? Thousands."

"Thousands, huh?" I mimicked his chuckle. "The girl remembered who did it. But when she reported it, the incident got thrown away because it turned out that her rapist was the dean's son." I clicked on the college's website, pulling up the Dean's picture. "Hmmm, you have your father's eyes."

"That's all circumstantial," he blurted out, looking around at everyone. "I'm just a dealer trying to pay my tuition."

Chi-Lynn sucked in her teeth, looking down at his outfit. "A struggling student wouldn't be wearing designer clothes."

He glowered at her, liquid pouring down his face like he was in hell. "So what?" he said, voice rising. "I like nice things. Who doesn't? That doesn't make me a rapist."

I waved my iPad. "I'm not done, yet."

He stalled, scratching at his pants again.

"I didn't even get to the worst of it yet," I said, pulling up a picture of the girl from his room. It was rather easy to find her. I just started searching his college area for student deaths, and she popped up. "This is Liza Vines. The girl from the pictures in your room. You killed her."

♟♙♟