Chapter 3

The police station was a blur of harsh lights and echoing voices.

They put me in an interrogation room, small and gray.

"I told you," I insisted, my voice hoarse, "I was at The Night Owl Cafe, all three days."

A detective, younger than the first, sighed. "We spoke to the staff, Miss Carter."

"And?" I prompted, a sliver of hope.

"They remember seeing you, yes," he conceded, "But no one can confirm you were there continuously, without leaving, for three whole days. People come and go."

My hope died. Of course, they couldn't. Who would watch one person that closely?

"What about the security cameras?" I asked, "The cafe has cameras, they'll show I never left."

The older detective, Detective Miller, looked at me, his expression unreadable.

"There was a power surge at the cafe right before we arrived, a pretty big one. Fried their whole system, including the CCTV storage. All recordings from the past week are gone."

My stomach dropped. A power surge. Just like that.

"That's too convenient," I whispered, the words tasting like ash.

Miller ignored me. He was looking at my hoodie, my favorite one, a dark blue with a distinctive embroidered patch on the sleeve – a stylized raven I'd designed myself.

I was wearing it. I almost always wore it.

He leaned forward, his voice soft, almost gentle, which was somehow more terrifying.

"This patch, Miss Carter, it's quite unique."

He took out a small evidence bag and a pair of tweezers. Carefully, he began to pick at the edge of the patch on my hoodie.

My blood turned to ice. No, no, no.

With a final tug, he pulled something free from behind the fabric.

A tiny, metallic glint.

He held it up with the tweezers. A micro-electronic receiver, impossibly small.

"We found a transmitter on the 'hired test-taker' who was caught at the exam center," Miller said, his voice flat. "He said the person orchestrating the cheating was feeding him answers through an earpiece connected to a receiver just like this one, hidden on their person."

I stared at it, horrified. That wasn't there before. It couldn't have been.

"I... I don't know how that got there," I stammered, "Someone must have planted it."

The door opened, and a uniformed officer brought Brittany and Kyle in. They looked suitably distressed.

"Miss Evans, Mr. Peterson," Miller said, "You were with Miss Carter before the SATs, correct?"

Brittany nodded, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "Yes, we were supposed to study together at the hotel."

"Did you see her at the test center on June 7th or 8th?"

Kyle shifted his weight, looking down. "Well, detective... we didn't want to say anything... but..."

Brittany picked up, her voice trembling, "We saw her there, on the first day. Just for a moment. She looked... really nervous. We thought maybe she was just stressed about the test."

"She told us she was going home, that she wasn't feeling well," Kyle added, his voice full of fake reluctance. "We didn't see her take the test, just saw her near the entrance, looking shifty."

Betrayal, sharp and cold, twisted in my gut. They were part of it. They had to be.

My "best friend" and my "boyfriend."

The evidence was piling up, a mountain of lies burying me alive.