“Fuck. You,” she hisses. “He hasn’t answered his phone. Hasn’t been at school, and he’s not at his apartment. You killed him. I know you did.” I drop the knife over her shoulder, at her feet. I take the jawbone out of my pocket. I use it to brush the hair away from her cheek, and then caress her skin with it. Even though she doesn’t get a good look at it, it gives me pleasure. “You have no proof,” I murmur in her ear. “Natalie will say I was with her all night. The houseguests will confirm it. The police won’t be able to get a warrant.” “Fuck you!”
