Maya woke to chaos. Screams cut through the early morning haze, a jagged discord that sliced through her dreams. Sunlight streamed through a gap in the curtains, revealing Sarah and Emily huddled together on the far side of the room, faces pale and etched with horror.

Her heart hammered a frantic tattoo against her ribs. "What is it?" she croaked, the words barely escaping her lips.

Sarah's trembling finger pointed toward the floor. "Down there," she whispered, her voice choked with terror.

It took a moment for Maya's sleep-fogged brain to process the scene. A body lay sprawled on the worn carpet, a gruesome tableau bathed in the unforgiving morning light. A girl, no older than Maya herself, her once vibrant-hair a tangled mess, eyes vacant and staring at nothing. A sheen of crimson stained the faded t-shirt stretched across her chest.

"Oh my god," Maya choked out, a wave of nausea washing over her. The world tilted, the party's echoes swirling into a sickening symphony in her head.

"Alex," Emily whimpered, "We have to find Alex."

The name jolted Maya back to the present. In the chaos, she'd almost forgotten about him. He'd been distant at the party, something simmering just beneath the surface. But surely, even he couldn't have . . . Her stomach churned at the thought.

Amidst the panicked cries, sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer with each passing second. Soon, Cairo's once-raucous house was swarming with blue-uniformed figures, their presence a stark contrast to the party's fading remnants. A gruff-faced officer barked orders, his voice laced with a grim urgency that mirrored the tightening knot in Maya's stomach.

The questions began, a relentless barrage fired at the shell-shocked group of teenagers. When had they found the body? Had they touched anything? Who was she? And, perhaps the most ominous of all: Did anyone here know what had happened to her?

Maya's head throbbed. The overheard argument suddenly flooded back to her, the menacing voices, the thud that had seemed so innocuous then, now a chilling echo of the tragedy that lay before them. It couldn't be a coincidence. But how could anyone, even the harsh-voiced stranger from the basement, have predicted this?

One of the officers, a woman with kind eyes and a weary expression, approached Maya. "You're Maya, right?" she asked, flipping through a notebook.

"Yes," Maya managed, her voice barely a whisper.

The officer introduced herself as Officer Crystal Lofts. She wore her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. "Did you know the victim? Have you ever seen her before?"

Maya stared blankly at the girl on the floor, feeling strangely disconnected. "No," she admitted. "I don't recognize her."

A flicker of suspicion crossed the officer's face. "You were at the party last night. Could she have come with one of your friends?"

Maya shook her head. "I'm new here. I just moved from Carlsbad."

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The officer's gaze sharpened. "That's interesting. So you decided to stay overnight at a stranger's house, even though you weren't very comfortable?"

Maya's cheeks flushed, and she looked away, unable to meet the officer's piercing stare. The warning text message burned in her memory, a constant reminder of her unease.

"It was late," she stammered, struggling to find her voice. "I didn't want to bother my mom."

The officer regarded her for a moment, but didn't press the issue further. As Maya was dismissed, the echo of the warning text reverberated through her mind: "DON'T GO TO THE PARTY."

The party atmosphere had morphed into a suffocating haze of fear and suspicion. The teenagers huddled in separate corners, their eyes filled with shock, and a growing dread. Sarah, once a whirlwind of infectious energy, now sobbed uncontrollably into Emily's shoulder. Emily, usually so reserved, stroked her friend's hair with a trembling hand.

Alex stood apart, his face a mask of carefully cultivated stoicism. His gaze met Maya's for a brief moment, but he quickly looked away, the fleeting flash of surprise - or was it guilt? - vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

As the hours slipped by, the police combed through the house and its surrounding grounds, searching for answers. Yet, the dead girl remained a chilling unknown, a stranger whose life was tragically cut short amidst a night meant for careless fun. The overheard conversation, the menacing drink pusher, Alex's strange behavior, and now a mysterious murdered girl – it all formed a tangled web of unanswered questions. It was becoming increasingly clear that Bridgeport held far darker secrets than she could have ever imagined.

Driven by a mix of fear, curiosity, and a stubborn desire to make sense of the impossible, Maya made a decision. She wouldn't sit around waiting for the police to uncover the truth, not when there were pieces of the puzzle she might be able to find herself. Someone here knew more than they were letting on; she was sure of it.

As the afternoon wore on and the initial shock started to fade, Maya carefully surveyed her surroundings. The police seemed focused on the house and its immediate exterior. With the backyard off-limits, Maya slipped out through the front door, feigning a need for fresh air. Her heart pounded as she passed the porch where only hours ago, the party had throbbed with life. Now, the brightly colored strings of fairy lights seemed like a cruel joke against the somber silence.

Moving cautiously away from the house, Maya began her search. The sprawling backyard was a tangle of overgrown bushes, an old swingset creaking softly in the wind, and a basketball hoop with a tattered net. It all felt painfully ordinary, belying the gruesome discovery that had shattered the night.

Desperate for a clue, anything that might offer a path forward, Maya pushed deeper into the wooded edge bordering Cairo's property. Branches snagged at her clothes as she scanned the ground, her gaze searching for any item out of place, any sign of a struggle. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves underfoot and the insistent pounding of her own heart.

Just when she was about to give up, her eye caught a glint of light amidst a cluster of ferns. Crouching down, she gingerly parted the leaves and gasped. A necklace, a delicate silver chain with a black and crimson crescent moon pendant, lay partially concealed in the damp soil. It looked expensive, not the kind of thing a random partygoer would carelessly lose.

Maya reached for it, her fingers trembling. Did it belong to the victim? Had it been torn off in a struggle? Or was she grasping at straws, desperate to find a connection where there was none?

As the sun began to dip below the tree line, casting long shadows across the untamed woodland, Maya knew it was time to return. Clenching the necklace tightly, she slipped back towards the house. The secret weight of the warning text nestled uneasily beside her newfound determination. Her investigation into the mystery of Bridgeport had only just begun.

Someone at the party — the person who sent the text message — knew something terrible was going to happen. But why single Maya out? She didn't know anyone other than Alex, Emily, and Sarah. Hell, she still hadn't even met Cairo yet, and she had slept in his room with Emily overnight. What did Maya know? And how far is the killer willing to go to keep her quiet?