Page 43 of (My Accidental) Killer Summer

“Okay, so how do we even start?” I ask, looking at the pile of tools we’ve gathered—saws, knives, and a couple of heavy-duty garbage bags. “I mean, do we just…?”

“Just what?” Amy raises an eyebrow. “There should really be a manual for this.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s called the internet,” I mutter, feeling the weight of the situation settle heavily on my shoulders. Because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. And I don’t particularly want to cut up a dead body; but I don’t want to get caught more. And Noah’s back and I can’t even begin to unpack that yet. “We just have to do it.”

Amy stares at me for a long second. “Okay,” she says slowly. “But just so we’re clear—you mean, like… actually cut him up. Like, with a saw. And garbage bags. And maybe barf buckets.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

She glances down at Doug, then back at me. “You go first.”

“What?”

“You start. I’ll… support.”

“Support?” I ask. “Like moral support?”

“No, like I’ll hold the flashlight or something.”

I exhale sharply and grab the hedge clippers from her bag. I crouch down, position them over Doug’s ankle, and?—

Drop them immediately.

“Nope,” I say, standing so fast I nearly fall backward. “I can’t do it. I am not that person.”

“Thank God,” Amy breathes, dropping to sit on the deep freeze like she just survived a near-death experience. “Because I was going to faint, puke, or both. Probably both.”

We stare at the body again.

“So, what now?”

“New plan,” I say.

“Does this one involve less… dismemberment?”

“Ideally.”

She lifts the soda can we abandoned earlier and takes a long, flat sip. “Well, it better come fast. Because we’ve still got one body, no alibi, and the day is officially kicking our ass.”

I nod grimly. “Back to brainstorming.”

My phone buzzes on the workbench, cutting through my thoughts like a knife. Then buzzes again. Then goes full seizure mode. Amy’s phone follows suit.

MAMA DRAMA GROUP TEXT – Sandy, Molly, Jen, Elle, Amy

Oh God. Please let this be about school uniforms or gluten-free bake sale shaming. I do not have the bandwidth for a social emergency right now.

I open the thread.

SANDY: alert! Spotted jogging in the neighborhood. Posting pic…

Attached is a high-def photo of Noah. Running. Shirtless. Glowing.

With all his tattoos on display.

The sun hits him like he’s in a Gatorade commercial and a rom-com at the same time. His abs are glistening. His shorts are… ambitious.

MOLLY: Is it even legal to look this good in broad daylight??