In these chapters, Lillian continues her efforts to control the narrative around Henry’s death, beginning with her attempt to erase all evidence of the hex. Her googling “how to get rid of evidence” reveals an instinct for self-preservation that eclipses sorrow, recasting a personal tragedy as a logistical problem of evidence management (98). This impulse to reshape events extends to her interactions with Elise and Jamie, both of whom she attempts to convince to corroborate a false alibi. With Elise, Lillian manufactures the fiction that she is helping plan Henry’s funeral, a lie designed to project a level of intimacy that validates her grief and her right to demand complicity. This construction of a favorable narrative demonstrates the novel’s continued attention to the theme of Perception Versus Reality, as Lillian actively builds a version of events in which she is a blameless, devoted girlfriend. Her internal logic is self-serving, but she couches even that motivation in an assertion that Henry “wouldn’t mind shielding [her] from unnecessary scrutiny” (105), framing her deception as a posthumous act of service. This establishes her as more than a person hiding a secret; she is a director scripting a reality that centers and absolves herself.

Lillian’s encounters with the legal system and Henry’s social circle continue to reflect the theme of Performativity and Identity in the Digital Era, as she treats her identity as a performance to be shaped depending on the audience. In the police station, her attempt to signal a queer identity to Detective Jennings by playing a MUNA song is a calculated, almost theatrical gesture aimed at gaining an ally. Her self-awareness of this performativity is clear when she sees a flash of herself “in a Lifetime movie” while professing her fabricated version of her love for Henry (104). This tendency intensifies at the wake, where her primary concerns are being the “best-dressed person there” and clinically assessing her rival, Nora (128). Grief becomes a competitive spectacle, and she silently judges the other mourners for their lack of aesthetic effort. Her engagement with the world is consistently mediated through an imagined audience, and even a tragic death becomes another stage on which Lillian must curate her role.

This section systematically dismantles the possibility for Lillian of Friendship Between Women as an Antidote to Isolation, as she refuses to see relationships as anything but transactional, competitive, or antagonistic. Lillian’s manipulation of Jamie epitomizes this, as she pressures her friend for financial support and coerces her into lying to the police. Instead of providing mutual support, their dynamic is one-sided, with Lillian exploiting Jamie’s loyalty to serve her own needs, and her internal narrative reveals that this has always been the case. Lillian possesses a potential support system but poisons it with deceit. The climactic confrontation with Nora in the locker room solidifies this pattern, transforming shared loss into a battle for narrative ownership over Henry’s affection. Lillian refuses to apologize and instead escalates the conflict with cruel lies, aiming to wound Nora by claiming Henry planned to leave her. Her final insult to Henry’s mother, “It’s not my fault your son couldn’t keep his dick in his pants” (139), severs any chance of alliance and cements her total isolation. Her interactions with every woman in these chapters are defined by manipulation, rivalry, and disdain, but when she is faced with the consequences of her actions, she continues to reframe herself as the victim of unscrupulous people.

Lillian’s unreliability as a narrator continues to be a feature of the narrative as she builds a web of lies to protect herself, consistently deflecting blame onto others. When confessing the hex to her lawyer, Hector, she immediately minimizes her own role by insisting it “was really my friend Jamie’s idea” (123). This strategic lie, told to the one person meant to be her confidant, reveals the depth of her inability to accept responsibility; despite the fact that Hector is sworn to confidentiality, she still feels the need to shape the narrative to avoid accountability. This pattern of deception characterizes her as a figure whose moral compass is entirely self-referential. Her interactions with authority are about crafting the most convincing performance of victimhood. This deepens the disconnect between her internal perception of herself as a wronged party and the reality of her manipulative actions. Hector’s religious discomfort with the hex and his suggestion that she attend church further underscore her alienation from conventional moral frameworks, which she dismisses with the curt declaration, “I don’t need Jesus […] I need a lawyer” (143).

The investigation into Henry’s murder unfolds through a lens of digital artifacts and online surveillance, complicating Lillian’s attempts to control her story and developing the theme of Performativity and Identity in the Digital Era. The section begins with her trying to erase her digital trail and ends with the consequences of its permanence. Her threatening text, “You’re going to get what you deserve” (104), materializes as a physical printout in the interrogation room, a tangible piece of evidence that undermines her performance of the grieving girlfriend. The text message functions as an immutable record of her true feelings, one that she cannot revise. Likewise, social media acts as both an information source and a battleground. Lillian learns of the wake through an Instagram post, and Nora reveals she has already “looked [her] up online” (133), confirming that a parallel investigation has occurred in the digital realm. Lillian’s identity has been scrutinized and judged based on her online footprint long before she enters the locker room, reinforcing the idea that she is not the only one who is investigating online, and curated personas are subject to the forensic analysis of others.