<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/WW6x8.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>:  Elizabeth Goetz<br/><strong>Time</strong>:  Saturday Night<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Keith and Margo's Murder Mystery Theater<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>:  Tristyn<br/><br/>The spoon hung halfway between her mouth and the cup, then she slowly lowered it.  Elizabeth hadn't expected anything like Tristyn's almost violent response to her question.  For a moment she was scared and saw the primal anger and frustration inside the boy.  Elizabeth looked down at her ice cream, then pushed it towards the center of the table.<br/><br/><strong>"It was our sophomore year,"</strong>she said quietly, eyes still on the table.<strong>"I was in Coach Dilby's history class when the note came in calling you down to the counselor's office.  You didn't come back.  Later that day, we heard that your dad had been-"</strong>she broke off, not quite sure how to say it.  Elizabeth's fingers twisted at a napkin, making it into an origami of tension.<strong>"We heard,"</strong>she finished up without saying the word dead.<strong>"I'm sorry, Tristyn.  That was a horrible thing to do, for me to do, on such a nice night.  I'm sorry."</strong>She looked up at him without raising her head much.<strong>"Everyone said you were different after that.  Jacob, Jacob Blake, he said you never finished your Eagle Scout project and dropped out of the troop."</strong>She'd heard more, but wasn't about to risk making him even angrier.<br/><br/><strong>"I'm done with my ice cream."</strong>