I was practically a detective now. Ultimately, the real detectives might have a forensics team, equipment and, you know, a job as an experienced detective backing them up, but Percy and I had something they didn't.

We had experience with the people surrounding Clara. Her friends, family. And hopefully, the son of a bitch who pushed her off a cliff. Hopefully.

"Okay," I said on an exhale, shoving my unruly curls out of my face as I scanned the little information we had. "So, we know that Gabe was at your house on that night."

I attempted to distance myself from the words, examine them clinically and objectively, otherwise I would sob and scream as I read. I could already see a hazy sheen over Percy's sea green eyes.

"Yeah. Okay." Percy ran a hand over his face. "Did you see him when you drove past?"

I shook my head. "No. Clara ran out and I drove off straight away. It was about 3AM, I'd say. I can't... I don't really remember anything else."

Percy fiddled with the end of his pen. "That's what I find weird. You were sobering up, at least a little. Why is it that you remember everything before that, but nothing after? Especially with the adrenaline driving you and the fear, escaping with Clara should be something you remember more clearly." His voice quivered on her name.

Still, his own thoughts had also crossed my mind. It didn't make sense. "Chamberlain Falls would be a stupid place to drive to. Why not my house? There's a phone there. Driving to the falls where there's no phone would be irrational. Even drunk I'm not that stupid."

"Didn't you mention that you woke up with a cut?" Percy queried, moving the pen to rest on the circled "Annabeth; cut" on our little detective graph.

"Yeah, vertically across my neck," I replied, mimicking a knife slicing in the correct place.

An adorable expression of confusion crossed Percy's face. I couldn't help but notice how cute he was, his back resting against the foot of his bed and his long legs sprawled across the floor. Damn it, focus woman.

"So someone was holding a knife to your throat. I mean, obviously, since you have a cut along your throat. But what if they were holding you in place? So that you wouldn't struggle?"

"That doesn't explain why I wouldn't remember anything, though," I said, frustration seeping into my words. "Nothing sobers a girl up like fear, and I'm presuming a knife to the throat and the murder of her sister would pretty much be like twenty shots of espresso."

It was then that I realised what I'd said. My sister. I'd often said that Clara was like a sister to me, but that's not the same thing as opening saying, without thinking, my sister.

Percy's expression softened. "You really loved her, didn't you?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I did."

"Good. Because we're going to make the bastard that killed our sister pay."

He didn't elaborate. Didn't again reply in that fiery, angry way of his. He returned to the charts, to the names on the paper. All the people who were involved with Clara. All the people that might have killed her. I knew every person on that list.

✨

Sally brought us a plate of cookies, causing us to rapidly shove our papers haphazardly beneath Percy's bed.

Her eyes were glinting with mischief. "What are you two doing up here?"

"Not much," Percy responded, his voice laced with amusement. "Chatting."

"I'm sure," she responded drily. And really, her assumptions were totally off. We were chatting. About her daughter's murder.

"You can leave now, Mum." Percy gestured to the open door.

"Fine," she said. "I'll leave you to your chatting."

She closed the door softly behind her. A swirl of affection rose in my stomach. Sally was the mum I'd always wanted. She was clever, amiable, doting and radiated a kindness that could only be associated with a mother. Frederick and Helen Chase were cold and absent. Tessa was my best friend and sister turned Regina George 2.0. My family had been the Jackson's, and Clara had been replaced by Tessa, who was once more my real sister. And Percy... Percy was my best friend. Tessa's ex-boyfriend.

"I love your mum," was all I said.

Percy smiled, grabbing a cookie and biting into it. He swallowed a sighed appreciatively. Waving a hand at his cookie, he replied, "Me too."

I grabbed the slightly crumpled papers from beneath Percy's bed, my eyes scanning for anything that could break open our little investigation. Names upon names rushed at me.

"I just don't see any motive," I sighed. "We've written down everyone. But who would want to kill an eight year old girl? Clara wasn't a twenty year old getting involved in dodgy drug deals! She was a little girl who went to school, came home, played with her dolls and came over to the Chase household to play with me. How could she piss everyone off?"

Percy bit his lip. "I don't get it either. Clara wouldn't hurt a fly. We aren't wealthy, so she wasn't being held for ransom. Not that killing her would earn a kidnapper many brownie points for a small fortune. I just... I don't get it."

"There wasn't any security cameras, was there?"

Percy shook his head. "Otherwise the cops would have someone in custody. And they'd..." he trailed off. Have you in custody, were the unspoken words. Yeah. Sometimes, when I was searching for someone that might have killed Clara, I forgot my role in the events of her death. It was easy. Stop it. Forgiveness, remember?

"We need to ask around," I said. "Alibis and such. We want to know why. But the real question is who. They need to be behind bars."

"Showing up at someone's house and asking 'what were you doing on the night of Clara Jackson's death' might be a bit... unsubtle?"

I tapped my chin with my pen. "Why don't we use Edeline Fitzgerald's party as a cover? That was massive, and on the same night. We could bring it up in conversation. Any question can be reverted into the subject of Edeline's party. We could ask them if they went. If they say yes, ask if they saw Jerald Sharpe's keg stand. I heard that was happening around 3AM, the same time as..."

Percy filled the silence. "If they say no?"

"Ask them what they were doing instead, and why in the world they would've missed it. They aren't going to be iron clad alibis, but it will cut down our list."

Percy grinned. "Good. But how can you make any question about Edeline's party?"

I shrugged, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Try me."

"Do you like grapes?"

"You know, I used to hate grapes. But Edeline had these awesome grapes that she was serving at her party, and I tried some. They are so good! Damn, that was a good party. Did you go?"

Percy raised an eyebrow. "That's impressive. Okay, um... Where did you get your shoes?"

"Ordered them online. Sam Cruz wore a similar pair to Edeline's party and I just had to have some."

"I'm starting a candle business. Would you mind smelling a few to give me another opinion on the scents I chose?"

"I'd love to, except do you remember Edeline's party? Yeah, I was a bit tipsy and fell down the stairs. Smacked my nose. Don't have the same sniffer I once did."

Percy laughed loudly. "Nice. And you managed to get out of smelling candles. I'm proud of you, Chase."

"Oh, absolutely. Thanks, Jackson. It's my hidden talent."

So we sat there, laughing about nothing in particular. I felt Percy's residual anger slip away from him, as if he'd shed a skin.

I had my best friend back. It was enough to make me shed my own skin, one grown out of fear and the need for a barrier against the world. I had no need for a barrier anymore, because Percy was my barrier.

It was Percy and Annabeth against the world. The world didn't stand a chance.