Max and I stare at the screen, our eyes wide. What could this video contain? Could this be the key to solving Harry's murder?

My mind buzzes with questions but it can do nothing but focus on the tape as in the video Ava retreats to sit in an armchair next to the couch Harry, Max, and Nate sit on.

"Why the hell are you filming this?" Harry asks Ava, his expression clearly annoyed.

"Come on, we're not juniors anymore. We've got one more year of high school and we're out!"

Harry rolls his eyes, pushing up the sleeves of his infamous white sweater. The sight almost sends a chill down my spine.

"Harry was put in school a year later than the rest of us," Max says. "So, he was a year older, but in the same grade. I don't really know why he started school late, though."

I nod. That makes sense. Why would Harry have turned eighteen in the middle of his junior year? It adds up now.

As I study the screen, I see now what Ian was talking about when he said there was a sort of tension between Harry and the people around him. It's seen in the way Max and Nate carry a conversation with Harry sitting there between them, a drink in his hand. Or the way Ava sits in her armchair, smoking a cigarette as she usually is, sending Harry a tentative glance every so often.

I watch Harry carefully. He seems like such an opposite to the Harry I interact with. The sight of him sullenly sitting on the couch in this video combined with his bitter attitude towards his mother in the other video almost makes me glad I didn't know him. Was he like that all the time? In the first video of him and Max playing soccer when they were younger, he seemed so jubilant and excited. What happened to make him so sour and annoyed with everything?

"Stop smoking," he snaps at Ava in the video.

She takes a long drag from the cigarette. "No."

He sets his drink down on the table, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, glaring at her. "I said, stop smoking."

"And I said no." She glares back at him.

"Cut it out, guys," Nate says, reaching into the front pocket of his shirt and retrieving a pack of cards, much like I'd seen him do earlier tonight at this very party. In the video, he shuffles the cards, watching Ava and Harry glare at each other.

The tension between Ava and Harry is almost tangible, even from watching it in a video. Harry leans forward and slides the ashtray on the coffee table over to Ava and sits back in his seat.

"Since you stole my necklace I think the least you can do is put out your cigarette."

I stifle a gasp. Stole his necklace?

Ava's eyes harden onscreen and she begrudgingly sits forward and stabs out her cigarette. She continues to glare at Harry.

"What necklace?" Max asks.

"Nothing," Harry says, picking up his drink and taking a long sip of it.

"You could loosen up a bit, Harry," Ava snaps. "It is the first day of summer and all."

"I don't give two shits what day it is," he retorts. "You throwing this pointless party at my house no less doesn't make me less angry with you."

"Calm down, Harry," Nate says quietly.

"It's not even a party," Ava says, rolling her eyes. "It's just a few of our friends."

"It's still at my house without my prior knowledge. Damn it, Ava."

His house? I don't recognize the room they're in. The walls are paneled with dark wood and lots of ornate decorations adorn the walls. Is it possible I don't recognize the room because of how it's decorated?

And then it hits me, and I don't see how I couldn't have realized it instantly. They must be in the room behind the hollow wall in the upstairs hallway of Cadence Manor.

So why on Earth is it sealed off now?

I'm not so sure I want to know the answer.

"I said I was sorry," Ava says on the screen, looking at Harry almost sheepishly. "I-"

"I don't care. You've been pissing me off long enough," Harry says, waving her away. "Let's play cards or something. Nate?" Nate nods and begins shuffling his deck of cards, but Ava sits up straighter in her seat.

"No," she says. "You always do this, Harry, you always-"

"I said enough, Ava, stop talking."

"You could be less of a dick, Harry," Max says.

"Yeah," Ava says, her confidence clearly fueled by Max's remark. "You're always like this. Irritable and rude and-"

"Cool, okay," Harry says sarcastically. "We've established that I'm a major dick. Anything else?" He glares at the three of them.

"Hey," someone says off camera that I recognize as Jenna's voice. "We're going down to the kitchen for some food."

"All right," Nate says and the sound of the door shutting sounds, leaving the room quiet.

It can be assumed that only the four of them are left there, hostility buzzing between them as an unseen force. Harry still glares at the other three, his jaw locked.

"Well?" He says. "Is there anything else you'd like to let me know about myself? Or are you all done?"

Ava mumbles something almost incoherent and Harry snaps his gaze over to her. "What?" He sneers at her.

"I hate you," she says loudly and clearly, her lip curling in distaste. "I hate who you've become, and who you're becoming. You think you can go around treating people however the hell you want just because you're going to own some huge ass company in a few years, but you can't. Stop acting like you're better than everyone when you're not!"

The three boys stare at Ava after her outburst; Nate and Max looking shocked and Harry looking downright furious.

"Leave, then," he says challengingly and evenly. "Go ahead and leave. If you hate me so much, leave me."

Ava's bottom lip trembles and she grabs her tiny purse, slinging the thin strap over her shoulder. "All of this will come back to you one day," she says, her voice eerily flat. "You'll get what you deserve for acting like this."

"Can't wait." Harry narrows his eyes at her.

Ava stares at him for another moment before standing up and walking over to the door. As she nears the camera, she realizes that it's still there and frowns, reaching for it. The screen goes black.

Max turns off the projector.

"I always turn it off after the last soccer video," he says. "I guess I've never waited around long enough to see that one. I didn't know that...wow."

I study Max's expression. He looks shocked, almost appalled, still staring at the screen.

"Do you remember that night?" I ask him.

He nods slowly. "I could never forget it. Ava left and then Nate and I got angry with Harry, and Harry got so mad..."

The inevitable question screams in my mind, begging to be asked. It seems to crawl through my vocal chords and out of my mouth before I can stop myself.

"Do you know who killed him?"

Max's gaze snaps over to me. His eyes trail over my face slowly before he replies.

"I can't answer that," he says.

"Why not?"

"I just can't. Not now. Maybe not ever. But I can't."

He looks back at me as I stand, looking down at him.

"If you know who it is, I hope you know you're doing the wrong thing by keeping it to yourself," I say, my voice low. "If Harry was truly your best friend, you would tell the police. You know that, right?"

"Yes," he says. "I know."

I turn and walk out of the room, different emotions consuming me. I'm confused at Max's behavior, angry that the video cut off when it did, and disappointed in who Harry was. He was rude to his mother, nasty to Ava (even if she is pretty nasty herself) along with treating the people around him like trash.

I make my way down the stairs without a goodbye to anyone in the parlor, pushing through the crowd in the front foyer until I'm out the door. I walk down the drive, taking a breath of fresh air.

Suddenly, someone grabs my wrist and I let out a gasp, turning around and yanking my wrist away. I put a hand to my chest and instantly turn my gaze into a glare at Ava, whose black sequined shirt reflects the lights of the house. Her dark blonde hair is straightened but slightly messy from chasing after me, no doubt. I cross my arms over my chest.

"What do you want?"

"You were watching the tapes with Max, weren't you?"

"What-"

"The ones of Harry. You were watching tapes of Harry." She looks breathless, her usually hostile expression erased from her features.

"What's it to you?"

"I can tell you about him," she says, her voice cracking slightly. "I can tell you about what happened to him."

I raise an eyebrow, wary of her words.

She runs a hand through her hair, and I notice that her dark makeup is smudged around her eyes and her forehead is slick with a sheen of sweat. "I live around the block," she says. "Come on." She nods to me and begins walking down the sidewalk, the noise her black heels make echoing through the street.

I stay still for a moment, debating. What if this is a trap? I wouldn't put it past Ava. She's manipulative, and I've been a victim of that before, with the whole necklace ordeal. That being said, I'm not afraid of her. And she might have known the hostile side to Harry better than anyone else when he was alive.

So I slowly follow, taking a few large steps to catch up to her, walking slightly behind her in silence.

We round the corner and Ava leads me to a tall brick two story house that is as grand as the other mansions in this town. It doesn't surprise me that she lives in a place like this. Then again, I live in Harry's old mansion, so who am I to say anything.

I follow her up the front steps and into the foyer, the door closing behind us softly. She looks at me briefly before beginning to climb the stairs to the second story, the sound of her shoes loud in the open foyer.

"My parents are out for the weekend," she says. "They went to the coast with some friends."

I don't answer her as I begin climbing the stairs after her, nothing but the sound of our shoes on the marble steps echoing through the empty house.

Once we reach the second floor, she leads me down the hallway and opens a door.

Ava's room is huge, with a queen sized bed pushed against one lilac colored wall and a flatscreen television mounted on the wall adjacent to it. Two armchairs sit by the window and she gestures for me to sit in one.

"So," she says, sitting in the other chair. She wears the same nervous expression she did before, and she folds her hands in her lap.

"I'm surprised you brought me here, considering that you hate me," I say, unable to keep the thought to myself.

Ava picks at a loose fray in her tights. "I don't hate you."

"This is no time for jokes."

"I don't. I promise." She looks up at me.

"Then why did you accuse me of stealing the necklace? Why did you almost get me a criminal record? Why are you always so bitchy towards me? I could go on and on, Ava."

"I'm sorry for all of that. Okay? I'm sorry. I just...I'm so mad that you moved into Cadence Manor."

"What?"

"If the Styles' don't live there, no one should. That's how I feel. But I can't do anything about your family living there now, so...yeah. That's why I've been...you know."

"A total bitch?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"So why am I here, then?"

Ava sighs shakily, fiddling with her fingers. "Harry and I dated for over a year. And...you were right, before. He never loved me. But I loved him. A lot." She pulls a rubber band off her wrist, tying her hair back into a ponytail. "I was there the night he died. You know that, if you saw the tape. Max always leaves the room before it can play. He gets emotional over Harry's death a lot."

My suspicion of Max decreases slightly, but not entirely.

"Harry and I had a really bad fight the Friday before that night," Ava goes on, staring at the wall behind me. "The seventh of June. I was over at his house, in his room when I found the necklace. There, sitting on his dresser. It was beautiful. I wanted it. Harry always bought me jewelry and stuff, but nothing as beautiful as I thought this necklace was.

"So I asked him about it, and he got furious. He told me to never touch it again, and he snatched it from me and told me to get out of his room. As I was leaving, I saw him drop the necklace under his pillow."

Ava's eyes are wide as she tells the story, her breathing quick. "Later that night, after Harry got a little drunk, I snuck back into his room and took it. I just had to have it. I know, I was so...ugh. I cringe thinking about it." She shakes her head. "I told everyone Harry had given it to me as a gift. Everyone was so jealous. I felt empowered. It didn't last long, though." She looks down. "Harry found out I stole it the next afternoon. Max and Nate were there in the hallway while we fought in the parlor. No doubt they heard everything. There was so much yelling. I expected Harry to end it between us right then and there, but he didn't. I realized then that he was only with me because our parents wanted us to be together. I guess I had known it all along, but I let myself believe it then.

"Later that night, he was still mad at me, as you saw in the tape. After I left, I went down to the kitchen to talk to the rest."

Ava's bottom lip quivers. "It wasn't supposed to happen," she says, her voice fragile. "It was all a mistake, an accident-"

"What was?"

Ava shakes her head as tears begin to run down her face. "Max and Nate came downstairs awhile later. Harry didn't. They said he had to cool down because he was angry about me. After that it's all a blur for me."

"Are you saying that...Max and Nate killed Harry?"

She shakes her head violently. "No! No. I don't know who killed Harry. But Max and Nate would never do it. I know that."

"But they were alone with Harry after you went downstairs, weren't they? Who else...?"

"No. You don't understand," she says. "Harry did come down a bit later. He was still annoyed, but he was there."

"So when was he killed, then?"

"I stayed in the kitchen for the rest of the night. I don't know what happened, I was upset already over the fight Harry and I had, and...I don't know, I just don't know."

"You're not leaving anything out, are you?" I ask her carefully.

She shakes her head, wiping her eyes. "I don't think so."

I nod, trying to process this information. Ava walks over to her dresser and grabs a tissue from the box sitting there, using it to wipe her tears.

"I don't know who killed Harry," she says slowly, her back to me. "But he didn't deserve it, even if I thought he did that night. I hope you know that."

"If he didn't deserve it, why was he killed?"

"Someone else thought he deserved it."

-

The next morning I sleep in until noon and find my parents have gone out to the farmer's market again, and they will be running errands until three. So I drag myself out of bed and get dressed, absentmindedly running my brush through my hair in front of the mirror.

After my encounters last night, it is becoming less likely that Ava killed Harry. However, it's still possible and some suspicion remains. Also, who Harry was when he was alive feels like it's eating away at me, like it's a spirit of its own. The expression on his face when he told his mother to stop talking is still in my mind. I can't believe he would have the nerve to speak to his own mother that way.

As if on cue, I look up into the mirror to see Harry standing behind me, hands in his pockets. I smile faintly at him and he returns the smile.

"I learned lots of things last night," I say.

"Really."

"Max showed me some tapes of you when you were alive. He said he felt like I know you in a way no one else does."

"And what did you think?"

I set down my brush. "I think you were rude, especially to your mother," I say. "And I think you were egotistical and arrogant and almost intolerable."

I turn around to look at him, studying his reaction. But his facial expression hasn't changed at all.

"I'm appalled," I say to him.

"I don't know why," he says. "I told you how I was. I told you I was selfish and arrogant, I don't know why seeing it on tape makes a difference."

"Because I know you as this caring and wise person that touches me and kisses me even though you can't feel it, and that tells stupid jokes to make me feel better about myself," I say. "I didn't want to believe that you were selfish and arrogant when you were alive."

"I don't know what to tell you," he says, shrugging. "That's who I was. I'm not exactly proud of it, but I told you that was how I was. I never claimed to be anything else."

"There was a tape from the night you died," I say, lifting my gaze to meet his. "You and Ava were fighting."

He watches me carefully, his arms crossed over his chest.

I don't know what else to say to describe the tape. I don't know why the air between is us full of tension. I don't like it.

"And?"

"And Ava told you she hated you, and you didn't even care in the tape. And after the tape ended, I ran into Ava and she told me about the night you died and how she stole the necklace from you and you got mad."

"You talked to Ava?"

"At her house, in her room. She was acting different than usual and she told me a lot about that night."

"Why are you acting like this?" Harry asks, ignoring what I just told him.

"Like what?"

"You're acting differently. What's wrong?" He steps toward me and I don't move.

"You're acting differently. Ever since I began learning how you really were when you were living you've been acting differently."

"Maybe you're just seeing me in a different way, now that you know how I was."

I shake my head, not answering him. I'm leaning slightly against my dresser as he towers over me, watching my expression.

"I'm sorry you see me differently now," he says. "But I've told you before that dying has changed me. I never claimed to be an angel or anything when I was alive, so I don't see why you're so surprised to see it for yourself."

"Maybe because I wanted to believe no one hated you enough to kill you," I say quietly, staring at the wall behind him.

Harry steps away from me, turning and running a hand through his hair. His back is to me as he says, "This ends now, all right?"

"What?"

"You don't have to help me anymore. It's becoming too much."

"What are you talking about? Just because I saw a few videos and talked to your former girlfriend?"

"You don't understand," he says, turning back to me. "I don't want you to help me anymore."

"Why?" I hate the way my voice cracks.

"It's not you-"

"Are you kidding me right now? Don't give me 'it's not you, it's me.' I watch too many movies to put up with that shit." My eyes begin to water and I hate it.

"It's becoming apparent that this is going nowhere," Harry says, not looking at me. "And I don't want to waste your time with something that had nothing to do with you. I shouldn't have concerned you with my problems in the first place. I'm sorry."

"I'm learning more, I'm getting closer to the truth, I know it," I say, wiping at my eyes so that my tears don't spill. "I want to help you, Harry-"

"It's not going to end well for either of us if you do." He stares at the ground.

I let out a long exhale, dropping my arm to my side, giving up on wiping my tears away. "Fine," I say. "Leave, then."

He locks gazes with me and I know he's right, I know everything he said is right. I knew that this wouldn't end well anyway, for either of us. It was clearly inevitable that I would fall in love with him, and I have. It feels like I've fallen onto a concrete slab and scraped up my skin, blood stinging my wounds. How long was I going to let myself believe I could love him? Until he crosses and I don't see him again until I die? If I even see him then? I am an idiot for keeping myself locked in this little daydream of mine. Once again, reality is here to hoist me out of my ocean of imagination by my shirt collar, saving me from drowning in my daydreams. Nothing with Harry can last, not even my helping him cross, because life and death aren't meant to get along.

When I break myself out of my cloudy thoughts, Harry is shutting my bedroom window behind him.