At this revelation about the portrait spike trap, Tiberius turned to Sushruta with a thunderous expression. “Sushruta. We just investigated this trap. How did you not discover something like this?”

Sushruta scratched at his beard. He opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again with a sheepish expression. “I was aware of this passage. I should have reported it.”

Lupe groaned. “This is why we put those rules in place! Sushruta!”

“I know,” he said, “but I thought it was harmless! Just an entrance to the kitchen for a late night snack.”

Xoco clicked her tongue and pointed at Sushruta accusatorily. “So it was you! You’re the one who’s been sneaking into the kitchen and eating my tamales!”

Sushruta gestured towards Brad. “I’ve just been supplying them! He’s the one who eats them!”

Brad put a hand over his heart. “Xoco, babe, your tamales are the most excellent tamales I have ever eaten. But I am most apologetic for eating them without your permission.”

Xoco softened and leaned over to pat Brad. It seemed almost everyone in this house had that same soft spot for him. “Well, you are a growing boy! But no more! Ask first!”

“Listen,” Lupe interrupted, “I’m glad we solved this tamale mystery that did not need to be solved, but can we get back on topic? Sushruta? Did anyone else know about this entrance?”

Before Sushruta could answer, Nour spoke up. “Mathilde and I were with Sushruta when the passage was discovered. My apologies for hiding my own knowledge of this entryway.” They pressed a hand to their mask. “I worried of drawing suspicion to myself, should I have pointed it out, but I know now I was wrong to do so. My dear Mathilde may have brought her own murderer here late at night! And I might have further complicated the case in an attempt to shrug off any possible suspicion. Please accept my greatest apologies.”

Lupe looked towards Sushruta to confirm, who nodded in affirmation. “Fine, I get it. Just, come on guys. How many times do I need to go over this? Secrets kept during investigations only help the murderer!”

Kefilwe looked down at the table in shame. Faith took a moment to inspect his nails with a smirk. And the catgirl looked at Xiao Li, who cleverly made no moves that suggested she saw this. Devorah doubted it was naivety that made Lupe insist on this. So what was it?

As other cast members stammered out apologies of their own, Devorah allowed herself one more glance at Anna. Just one, so that it wouldn’t become a distraction.

She gave away nothing.

“But how would Mathilde have brought her murderer here?” Xoco asked.

“Your typical hidden chute,” Xiao Li said. “You gotta crawl, which… To be honest, I’m not sure how Mathilde would have made it.”

“So we’re back to the pre-kitchen closing theory?” Jacob said.

Georgie tapped on Jacob’s shoulder. “I don’t think we have to be. It all depends on when she had the cordial. Maybe Mathilde had enough to numb the pain, but not enough to kill. And then had even more once she was in the kitchen. Right?” Georgie asked, looking towards Anna, who inclined her head in a graceful manner.

“If I may,” Nour broke in, “I do believe it would be possible to drag a corpse through the passage as well, if someone was strong enough to do so.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Nour,” Anna said, “you investigated the corpse, yes? Just as you did for Loowa and Jack? Did you notice any signs of trauma on the body? Anything that would have been inflicted post-mortem?”

Nour paused. “Yes, Miss Anna. I do believe there was some bruising which may have occurred after death.”

Tiberius turned to focus on Nour. “You did not say that earlier. I propose that we have a secondary examination of the corpse.”

Uh oh. Devorah couldn’t see Nour’s face, but it was clear everything was starting to close in on them. This wasn’t exactly a difficult murder to solve. Especially with Anna pulling the strings.

“I do not believe that is necessary,” Nour said. “And Mathilde would not have wanted several people, especially men, examining her body. Furthermore, I am the only person here with true medical training. What would you learn from the body that I could not?”

“What indeed,” said Anna in a low, droll voice. Devorah snickered.

Georgie stood up and pushed back her chair. She coughed. “I could take a look? I don’t know much about medicine myself, but we were friends, Miss Mathilde and me. I also know something about bruising.”

“From your illness?” Jacob asked with sympathy in his eyes. Georgie nodded, but if Devorah recalled correctly, bruising wasn’t a major symptom of tuberculosis. But whatever. Devorah couldn’t really bring herself to care. Not with how Anna, too, was gracefully rising from her own chair, her skirt rustling like leaves of grass in a light spring breeze.

“Can I assist you, Georgie? I had great respect for Mathilde, and believe that I could be an impartial observer. If that would be fair to you, Nour?”

There was a pause. “Why would that be unfair?” Nour said.

“Exactly,” Anna said, a small smile gracing her thin, pink lips. She gestured for Georgie, and the two of them went back into the kitchen. Devorah followed as well, unthinking.

After just a few feet, Devorah came into contact with that damn boundary. Anna and Georgie continued on past her. It struck Devorah that they almost looked like a lady and her maid, with the similarities in their period dress and the way Georgie took her cues from Anna. Was that similar to how Devorah and Anna once looked?

Devorah turned away and returned to Bell and Eugenia, who were chatting in the silence of the room. The active members of the cast participating in the murder investigation weren’t chatting, or furthering the discussion. The atmosphere was heavy, pensive. There were a few whispers here and there- between Lupe and Tiberius, Gabriel and Jacob. Brad and Kefilwe with their heads bowed together, both openly crying. But Bell and Eugenia carried on, almost cruelly ignorant to the awful air hanging above them.

“Devorah! Over here!” Bell waved her hand. Eugenia inclined her head. It seemed John had no interest in joining in, as he was eavesdropping on Kefilwe’s hushed conversation with Brad. Then again, he rarely spoke at all with anyone during Devorah’s time with him, aside from with the man who later became his murderer.

Maybe John was struggling too, just as Devorah was.

“Dev!” Bell shouted again. Devorah sighed and rejoined her. Here was someone who didn’t seem to be struggling much at all. And then there was Eugenia, who was enigmatic on a good day.

Speaking of Eugenia. “Eugenia,” Devorah started, “I apologize for how I reacted when you came in. I was just a bit taken aback.” There, social niceties completed. Now Devorah could go back to watching the doorway, waiting to see what Anna would undoubtedly discover with Georgie’s help.

“I knew you would be,” was Eugenia’s answer. A bit annoyed, Devorah turned back to her with a huff.

Was she really that predictable? Sure, everyone aside from hopefully Anna knew how gone Devorah was over her. But Devorah didn’t want Eugenia and Bell to know every detail. How it wasn’t completely driven by a need for connection and sex, like Sophitty and Amina were. Or even pure, nearly pious affection like there was between Brittia and Porshia, who had likely survived this whole mess and were probably living together in a small house with several cats and their families surrounding them.

No, this love was something else.

“What do you mean by that?” Devorah asked. “You knew I would be taken aback? Or that I wouldn’t react well?”

Eugenia looked at Bell as if to say see? And Devorah felt that annoyance grow into something hotter, something a little less controllable.

She grit her teeth. “Well screw that. And screw you for talking about me behind my back!”

Bell blinked, and raised her hands to show no offense. Even John looked up from across the table from where he had been ignoring his fellow ghosts. “Dev, we weren’t talking about you behind your back! You’ve been with us the whole time?”

“You know I’ve been distracted,” she shot back.

“And you’re our friend?” Bell finished. “I’m- We’ve just been worried about you. That’s all. This isn’t like you.”

“What isn’t like me?” Devorah said, the words spit like grit between her teeth. “Being angry? Talking back? Trying to have some goddamn peace and quiet in my own shitty, fake afterlife?”

Eugenia, in her beautiful dress and clean, bloodless clothes and glittering jewels took a step back. Pity was writ across her painted face. Devorah felt a new urge to claw it off. “As your friends, Devorah, we are simply worried for you. We know you have experienced something horrible, and it’s likely hurting you deeply. It’s hard to manage these thoughts and feelings,” Eugenia said. “Please tell us if there is any way we can help you.”

Devorah swallowed down a mouthful of nothing. “Just leave me the fuck alone,” she said, in a voice that sounded more hoarse than she would have expected.

When Devorah crossed to the other side of the room, as far as she could go, Bell and Eugenia did not follow her.