Elliot walks me to History, both of us ignoring the onslaught of filthy looks thrown our way. It doesn't matter that police have ruled out foul play on our behalf. Or that we have an alibi for Chad's alleged time of death. Oak Valley want to place blame and for the time being, they're blaming us.

"Helena!" The sound of my name being yelled stops me in my tracks. "Wait up!"

It's Zach Middleton. Fellow senior. My eighth grade crush.

"How's things?" he asks, straight up ignoring Elliot's presence. "You going to prom?"

"Umm..."

"You are now," he interrupts, smiling. "With me."

Elliot splutters.

"Think about it, Helena. With your current hype and my status, we'll be crowned king and queen for sure."

Oh my god!

"I'm flattered..."

"Is that a yes?"

"No."

His face falls, desperately trying to process my rejection.

"I'm going with Elliot."

"What! Why?"

"Because I want to."

He gawks.

"Besides," I interject. "If it's the crown you're after, I suggest asking someone else as your date. I'm not interested in being prom queen."

"If you're not interested, why are you campaigning?" he asks.

What?

"I'm not campaigning."

"Yeah, you are," he insists. "As of this morning, you're favourite to win."

He gestures towards a poster of my face; the hashtag KillerQueen written underneath. It takes me a moment to register what's going on. The smile. The slogan.

I'm running for prom queen.

What the fuck?

"I didn't do this," I ensure, pulling it down.

Elliot is close behind, just as confused as me.

"Who would make these?" I demand, asking no one in particular.

"Me," replies Chloe, appearing as though summoned.

She dismisses Zack with the flick of her wrist.

"Why?"

"Damage control," she replies.

Whatever that means.

"Your Dad advised us to lay low for a while," reprimands Elliot, gesturing towards the endless corridor featuring my face. "I hardly think this counts as laying low."

"Trust me. You need this," she protests.

I struggle to see why.

"The response has been incredible," she continues. "Roughly thirty-two percent of students hate your guts."

Great!

"But the other sixty-eight admire you."

"Why?" I question. "I'm a suspected murderer."

She shrugs. "I don't know. But stats don't lie."

I can't argue with that.

"The important thing is, you're winning," she says, eyes wide. "And if people like you, they'll listen to you."

"About what?" I ask. "There's no new leads. We're at a dead end, Chloe."

"For now," she replies, turning to Elliot. "But when sumthin' comes up–and sumthin' is bound to come up–we need your expertise, Helena. This town needs your expertise."

I don't know how I feel about that.

"And the campaign?" I enquire, rustling the half torn paper in my hand. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Let me handle it," she offers, strutting down the hallway. "You two just worry about catching the killer!"

Easier said than done...

****

"I've got it!" declares Elliot, barging into my bedroom later that evening. "I figured it out, Lena."

He approaches my desk and starts scribbling down notes, furiously chewing on his bottom lip.

"S_D_S. Seven deadly sins."

Wait! What?

"Sienna was first to die, right?"

I nod.

"What if she represents sloth?" he asks, presenting the theory to me.

"Why sloth?" I question.

He gestures towards his notes. "She was too lazy to get her grades up and resorted to cheating her way into college. It's fits the bill."

It does indeed.

"And say that's true, could Tom symbolise lust?"

I think it through for a moment, gaining an odd sense of excitement as I do so. "I guess. For not being able to control his urges and sleeping with Francesca before she was of age."

I grab our murder board and glare at the five names staring back at me.

"I just can't place Principle Wilson," he admits, resorting to chewing the end of my pen. "Greed, maybe?"

I narrow my gaze, thinking beyond the sin of his affair. Beyond the obvious.

"He's pride," I state, jumping from my chair. "Think about it. He chose to commit suicide over having his secret exposed. He'd rather die than have people know the truth."

Elliot frowns. "But how would the killer know he'd do that? Unless..."

"It was staged," I offer. "Which means Principle Wilson didn't shoot himself in the head. He was murdered."

We both take a moment and use our new found silence as breathing space. Time to think.

"So what's Zoe?" he asks. "Greed?"

"Not necessarily. Her actual secret was the distribution of Lucy's sex tape when she found out her boyfriend was cheating on her. Therefore..."

"Envy," he inputs.

I nod.

By now, he's no longer writing and instead, takes to pacing the length of my bedroom floor. Agitated. Restless.

"Chad," I begin. "Is gluttony. 'The bigger the girl, the bigger the pay out.' That's what he said about Brooke, right?"

"And somehow, it all relates to sex," he adds, stopping mid-stride.

He towers over my chair as I navigate Google, bringing up an article detailing Pope Gregory's list of seven cardinal sins. An example is given for each one, alongside a counter action, also knows as a virtue.

"Could this be linked to religion?" I ask. "Maybe our killer is ridding sinners for some greater good?"

"Or, perhaps they're repenting," he suggests.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning," he elaborates. "They've also sinned."

He points towards Tom's name on our murder board.

"You think it's Tom?" I question.

He shrugs.

"Why would he expose himself?"

"To seek forgiveness."

"From who?" I enquire. "God?"

Elliot suddenly tenses, blood running cold.

"What?"

"Lena, Chad was murdered days after beating Tom up in the hallway."

Holy shit!

He's right.

"So not only does Chad fall into the gluttony category, he also–very publicly–kicked Tom's ass," I detail.

I grab a pen and start scribbling down notes again.

"Hold on..." I join Elliot in pacing. "We know Tom was sleeping with Sienna. Maybe he found out she was also sleeping with Principle Wilson and killed them both in a jealous rage."

Elliot's eyes widen. "And if he's the one blackmailing Zoe, he forced her into prostitution."

"Oh my God," I declare, stopping dead in my tracks. "He represents all seven sins. Tom's the sinner."

"What's left?" he demands. "What sins are left?"

"Wrath and greed," I reply, reading from the article.

"We need to tell the cops, Lena. Now! Before anyone else gets hurt."

I throw on my coat and follow him towards the front door, stopping for nothing and no one.

We may not know why or how but Tom is the killer. And the sooner the police know, the sooner justice can be served. Sienna, Principle Wilson and Chad did bad things. Unthinkable things. But their execution was not for Tom to decide. He has no right playing God in whatever righteous path he's going down.

This ends now. With Elliot and I going to the cops.

I only hope we're not too late...

****

Ohhh...Tom is our killer.

Or is he?