The word hung in the air.

  You.

  Madison Blake froze. Detective Harris tightened his grip on the handcuffs around my wrists, but his eyes shifted slowly toward her. Officer Park stepped between Daniel and Madison instinctively.

  "Daniel," she said firmly, "this stops now."

  Daniel didn't move. His phone remained raised, still recording.

  "Why?" he asked softly.

  "Because the police are here."

  He smiled faintly. "That didn't stop the game before."

  Park's jaw tightened. "Madison is a witness now."

  Daniel shook his head slowly.

  "No."

  His eyes gleamed with something close to fascination.

  "She's the final player."

  Madison shook violently.

  "No."

  "Yes."

  "No!"

  Her voice cracked across the locker room.

  Harris stepped forward. "Enough."

  He grabbed Daniel's arm and twisted it behind his back. The phone dropped and clattered across the concrete floor, the screen still glowing—still recording.

  Park moved toward Madison.

  "You're safe."

  Madison laughed hysterically.

  "No I'm not."

  "Yes, you are."

  Madison looked around the locker room slowly—at the lockers, the bench, the spot where Lily had died. Then she whispered something barely audible.

  "You don't understand."

  Park crouched beside her.

  "Then help us understand."

  Madison's eyes filled with tears.

  "You think Ethan started the game."

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  Park glanced toward me. "He admitted killing Olivia."

  Madison shook her head.

  "That's not the beginning."

  Harris paused. "What do you mean?"

  Madison's voice trembled.

  "The game didn't start with Lily."

  The room fell silent again.

  Park asked carefully, "Then when did it start?"

  Madison looked at me, then at Daniel, then finally at the diary in Park's hands.

  "Freshman year," she whispered.

  Harris frowned. "Explain."

  Madison swallowed hard.

  "Olivia didn't invent the game."

  Daniel tilted his head slightly.

  "Oh?"

  Madison nodded slowly.

  "She stole it."

  Park's voice softened.

  "From who?"

  Madison pointed slowly.

  At me.

  My pulse didn't change.

  Harris looked confused.

  "What?"

  Madison's voice broke.

  "You started it."

  Park's flashlight drifted toward my face.

  "Ethan?"

  Daniel smiled again.

  "I told you."

  Harris's voice hardened.

  "Explain."

  Madison wiped her eyes.

  "Freshman year," she said quietly, "Ethan was the one everyone bullied."

  "That's not unusual," Harris said.

  "But he fought back," Madison whispered.

  Park frowned.

  "What does that mean?"

  Madison looked toward the lockers.

  "At first it was small things."

  "What things?"

  "Traps."

  "Traps?"

  Madison nodded.

  "He'd leave things where bullies would find them—nails in backpacks, glue in lockers, fake cheating evidence."

  Park looked at me.

  "You framed them."

  I shrugged slightly.

  "They deserved it."

  Madison continued.

  "Olivia saw what he was doing. She thought it was brilliant."

  Daniel laughed softly.

  "That does sound like Olivia."

  Madison nodded.

  "She called it a game."

  "Last player standing."

  The words echoed in the locker room again.

  Park asked quietly, "So Olivia copied Ethan."

  "Yes."

  "And then made it cruel."

  Madison's voice dropped.

  "Much crueler."

  Harris looked at me slowly.

  "You taught her."

  "No," I said. "I showed her consequences."

  Daniel chuckled.

  "Same difference."

  Park asked, "Did Ethan know about Lily?"

  Madison shook her head.

  "No."

  "Then why was he here that night?"

  Madison looked at me again.

  "Because Olivia invited him."

  "To what?"

  Madison's voice trembled.

  "To watch."

  Silence filled the room.

  Harris spoke carefully.

  "You're saying Olivia wanted Ethan to see Lily die."

  Madison nodded slowly.

  "Yes."

  Park whispered, "Why?"

  Madison's answer came quietly.

  "Because she thought he'd enjoy it."

  The words settled like ice.

  I closed my eyes for a moment—not because Madison was wrong, but because Olivia had believed that.

  Harris looked at me again.

  "You killed her because of that."

  "Yes."

  Park's voice softened.

  "Ethan... you tried to stop Lily's death."

  "Yes."

  "But after that..."

  "...you let the game continue."

  I nodded.

  Daniel laughed again.

  "That's the best part."

  Harris snapped, "Shut up."

  Daniel grinned.

  "But it's true."

  He looked at me.

  "You wanted them to destroy themselves."

  I didn't answer.

  Because he was right.

  Park exhaled slowly.

  "So Olivia died."

  "Yes."

  "Emma died."

  "Yes."

  "And Madison..."

  Everyone looked at her.

  Madison stared at the floor.

  The last player.

  Harris stepped toward her.

  "You're under arrest for your involvement in Lily Lin's death."

  Madison didn't move.

  Park gently took her wrists.

  The handcuffs clicked closed.

  Madison whispered weakly,

  "So that's it."

  Harris nodded.

  "Yes."

  "The game is over."

  Daniel bent down and picked up his phone again—still filming, still smiling.

  "Not quite."

  Harris frowned.

  "What now?"

  Daniel held up the screen. The video feed showed all of us in the locker room—police, suspects, witnesses, evidence.

  "Now," Daniel said quietly, "the story gets told."

  He turned the phone toward the diary, toward Lily's words, toward the place where she died—then toward the door, where sunlight from the hallway slowly filled the room.

  The game was over.

  But the consequences were just beginning.