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Ghoulia studies my face, and I get the sense she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“What about Vampyra Vex?” I ask, shifting tactics.

Ghoulia actually snorts at the mention of her competitor. “Please, Vampyra is all image, no substance.”

“She threatened Clawdia publicly.”

“Vampyra threatens everyone publicly. Empty threats, all of them.” Ghoulia picks up her cider again. “She cried in the bathroom at a convention once because someone criticized her wig. She doesn’t have the stomach for murder. She can barely handle conflict.”

“She lost multiple sponsorships to Clawdia.”

“And complained about it constantly. Vampyra and Clawdia had a screaming match at a convention last year. Vampyra threw a drink. Clawdia laughed. That was their entire dynamic.”

I glance over at the dessert table where Georgie is loading another plate a foot high with desserts while Mom pleads with her to stop. Macy is pitching candles to a group of women in elaborate vampire costumes, most likely making fang-shaped promises that no mere mortal can keep.

“Vampyra is desperate and loud,” Ghoulia continues. “Poisoners are patient and quiet. I think if Vampyra killed Clawdia, she would have done it dramatically. Stabbed her onstage during the toast. Made it a giant spectacle.” She pauses. “Poison requires planning. Vampyra can’t plan past next week’s social media post.”

A woman in a vampire costume walks by, and I catch a whiff of expensive perfume. The festival is in full swing around us, music playing, people laughing—the whole scene feels surreal given that we’re discussing murder.

“What about Miss Kitty?” I ask.

Ghoulia’s expression shifts. “Now that one is interesting.”

“How so?”

“Miss Kitty and Clawdia were working on something together. A documentary project.” Ghoulia swirls her cider, and the whipped cream nearly glides right off. “It was very ambitious. Very expensive. And very, very damaging if it had been released the way Kitty planned it.”

“What kind of documentary?”

“A behind-the-scenes look at the horror hosting community. The real story behind the screams, so to speak.” Ghoulia’s pale eyes fix on me. “Kitty had been filming for months. She did interviews with all of us. There was lots of backstage footage. And more convention drama than I would have liked. She was documenting everything.”

Miss Kitty’s bubbly personality bounces through my mind.

“Clawdia was supposed to be her mentor on the project,” Ghoulia continues. “Teaching her the technical side, helping her shape the narrative. But Kitty made a critical mistake.”

“What mistake?”

“She trusted Clawdia with the raw footage.” Ghoulia takes another sip. “Clawdia saw what Kitty had captured. Hours and hours of us being our real selves. Not our stage personas. Our actual, messy, complicated, sometimes unflattering selves.”

That’s never a good thing, Duchess muses. Clawdia was always ranting and angry when she was alone. Of course, she was never truly alone. I was always with her.

“Clawdia realized the documentary could be spun two ways,” Ghoulia says. “As a loving tribute to the community, which is what Kitty intended. Or as an exposé showing how petty and backstabbing we all are, which is what would actually sell. That’s some ratings gold, right there.”

“And Clawdia wanted it to sell.” It makes sense.

“Clawdia wanted to executive produce it. Take creative control. Turn it into something sensational.” Ghoulia’s voice is matter-of-fact, but I can hear the anger underneath. “She told Kitty the footage needed to be ‘reshaped for maximum impact.’ Which meant taking all our vulnerable moments and turning them into entertainment.”

“What did Miss Kitty say?”

“She refused. She said it wasn’t what she’d promised us when we agreed to be filmed. Said it would destroy relationships she’d spent years building.” Ghoulia pauses. “So Clawdia threatened to release the footage anyway. She had copies. Kitty had given them to her for editing purposes.”

I’m starting to understand why Miss Kitty looked so nervous when I talked to her.

“What was in the footage?” I ask.

“Everything.” Ghoulia’s smile is grim. “Me talking about Floyd. Vampyra admitting she bought fake engagement numbers. Miss Kitty herself confessing that half her YouTube horror stories are completely fabricated. Clawdia admitting on camera that she sabotaged Vampyra’s sponsorship deals on purpose. Morticia talking about embezzling convention registration fees.” She pauses. “Things that weren’t just embarrassing. Things that were actionable. Career-ending. In some cases, they were downright criminal. Of course, Miss Kitty would have edited all the dirty details out, but it was too late for that. And well, I get the feeling there might have been more in that documentary that I don’t know about. Something darker perhaps.”

And just like that, the stakes just got significantly higher.