All four of us stared at each other in the hallway, nervously. It felt like one of those Agatha Christie books where it turns out the four of us were secretly the killer and we had all just figured it out. My eyes raced from Vanessa to Tara to Kate. I had no safe place to stare.
"Katie spilled wine on her dress," Vanessa said, "That's what we were doing in that bedroom. Getting her a clean outfit."
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