The pep rally was a cacophony of shrill cheers and booming music. Everyone who owned a letterman jacket seemed to be wearing it, a sea of Bridgeport green and gold emblazoned with bold white lettering. Cheerleaders bounced across the gym floor, their voices strained from chanting fight songs. The air reeked of popcorn, sweat, and desperation to win the upcoming homecoming game against their archrivals, the Krakens.

Maya, perched on a bleacher at the furthest corner, felt a cold dread pool in her stomach. The boisterous display of school spirit felt grotesque, a stark contrast to the chilling image that haunted her thoughts. The memory of the girl, lying so still and lifeless in Cairo's opulent mansion, clung to her like a shroud. It was hard to believe it had only been a weekend since the party, yet the world seemed to have tilted on its axis.

Across the gym, a group of boys in Bridgeport's track uniforms whooped and hollered.. Among them, Alex, his football letterman jacket a beacon of Bridgeport pride, stood out. But where once his easy smile had been infectious, it now felt strained, almost nervous.

Suddenly, a ridiculous mascot lumbered onto the gym floor, its over-sized head resembling a scowling Scottish highlander. The kilted crowd erupted in cheers, the mascot tripping over its own over-sized boots in a clumsy attempt to dance. Maya couldn't help but let out a cynical snort. It seemed tacky to be cheering after a fellow teenager was found dead only three days ago.

The pep rally ended in a flurry of cheers and backslaps. Maya waited until the crowds thinned before approaching Sarah, who was fiddling with the hem of her cheerleading skirt, a stark contrast to her usually vibrant self.

"Sarah," Maya started, her voice barely a whisper above the receding roar of the crowd.

Sarah flinched, her eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and fear. "Hey," she mumbled, trying to muster a smile.

"We need to talk," Maya pressed, her voice firmer than usual. "About what happened at Cairo's."

Sarah gnawed on her lip, her gaze flitting nervously around the emptying gym. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Don't lie to me, Sarah," Maya said, her voice low and urgent. "You know what I'm talking about. The girl... what happened?"

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Sarah's chin quivered.

When she sensed Sarah was about to turn away in order to avoid answering, she stepped in her way and said, "Someone sent me this text message before the party."

Maya held out her phone so Sarah could read the warning on the screen.

Sarah's carefully constructed facade crumbled. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. "I can't... I can't take it anymore, Maya," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion.

Guilt gnawed at Maya. Seeing Sarah so broken filled her with a fierce protectiveness, warring with the simmering anger bubbling inside her.

"Just tell me," Maya urged, her voice softer now. "Tell me everything."

Sarah took a shaky breath, wiping a tear from her cheek. "She wasn't just some random girl, Maya. Her name was Arilla Pond. She was my friend, from Mariner's Rest." The words tumbled out, laced with an overwhelming sense of grief and despair.

Maya's stomach lurched. All this time, the girl had been more than a nameless victim. A person, with a name, a life cut tragically short.

"Your friend from... Mark's school?" Maya asked, her voice hushed.

Sarah nodded, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "We spent the summer together. She... she came to visit last weekend."

"You could've told me. I know you didn't kill her. You were with me or Emily the entire night."

"I didn't know it was her," Sarah blurted. "I was hungover and still really tired. I couldn't see very well. And her hair, her makeup. She was different."

Maya gave her a curious look.

"Arilla isn't blonde, and she never wore makeup. At least not that . . . Garish. She was unrecognizable."

"What happened, Sarah?" Maya pressed, needing to understand the full picture.

"There was something . . . something between her and this guy Mark Dodson. He's a football player for the Krakens. Mariner's Rest's star player." Sarah stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "They met over the summer, and then . . . " She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, the weight of the revelation crushing down on her.

"And then what?" Maya pressed, her voice a tight coil of urgency.

Tears streamed down Sarah's face. "I don't know all the details," she cried. "I didn't even know she was at the party. Nobody did. Whomever killed her, didn't do it at the party."

Fury and fear mingled in Maya's gut. Mark, the golden boy, involved in something sinister? Was Sarah simply trying to deflect blame, or was there more to the story?

"Sarah," Maya asked, each word measured and deliberate. "Do you think Mark could he have hurt her?"

Maya stared, a sense of betrayal twisting in her gut. How could Sarah be more concerned with Mark or her own guilt when her friend was dead? But as she looked at Sarah, crumpled and trembling, Maya felt a pang of pity. Sarah was caught in something far over her head.

"Listen, Sarah," Maya said with a newfound urgency. "We need to figure this out, for Arilla. But you have to tell me everything."

Sarah nodded slowly, a flicker of desperation in her eyes. Maya's internal conflict raged. Could she trust Sarah? Or was she unknowingly being led into a deeper web of deception, becoming entangled in something that could put her in danger too?