The house is full — music spilling from every wall, lights flickering, voices layered over laughter. It’s too hot, too crowded, and she’s not really part of it. She leans against the wall near the staircase, half-watching everyone else. Someone told her earlier that Ghostface can’t get everyone if they’re all together. Safety in numbers, they said. But really, it was just an excuse to throw a party — to drink, to forget, to prove they weren’t scared.

She didn’t come to feel safe. She came because it would’ve looked weird if she didn’t.

Chan’s here too. Somewhere near the kitchen, talking to people she doesn’t know. He fits in like he always does — easy smile, calm voice, like none of this gets to him. When their eyes meet across the room, he gives a small nod, like he’s checking on her. She nods back.

After a second, she decides to go over — no real reason, she just feels like talking to him. Maybe it’s better than standing around doing nothing.

The song changes, louder this time, and everyone cheers. Someone bumps into her shoulder and apologizes before disappearing into the crowd again. She moves through the room slowly, slipping past people until she reaches the kitchen.

Maybe the theory’s right. Maybe Ghostface really can’t get them all. Or maybe he’s already here.