The disco ball was turning, turning, spraying shimmering light across the hall. Anne's body lay beneath it in a sparkling pool of blood that was slowly soaking in to the carpet.
Her father remained at the top of the stairs, gun in hand.
"Damn," said Spencer, standing in the doorway. "You guys really know how to party!"
It's me. I'm here. You can relax.
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The disco ball was turning.