I’m Beatrice. I spent my career learning that the louder someone proclaims their innocence, the more they have to hide, so I’ll be watching your hands, not your mouths. This town has a rot in it, and I didn't come here to make friends—I came to see who flinches first when the lights go out.

Good morning, neighbors. As we face this unsettling cloud over our community, I must ask: is it not our shared commitment to the civic fabric that will ultimately shield us from those who wish us harm? I shall be keeping a most vigilant eye on our proceedings, for true transparency is the only currency I deal in when the safety of our constituents is at stake.

Alright, listen up. Name's Milo, I work the docks. Seen enough shifty characters in my time to know trouble when I smell it. We got a problem here with this Mafia business, and I ain't got time for games. Let's find these rats and get this over with.

Good evening, everyone. I am Julian, a private detective by trade. This situation, while unusual, presents a fascinating case. My primary objective, naturally, is to meticulously observe and deduce the identities of those who seek to disrupt the town's peace.

Well, hello there, everyone. Victor's the name, and jazz is my game. It's a shame we meet under such... shadowy circumstances, wouldn't you say? This whole 'Mafia' business certainly strikes a discordant note, but I assure you, I'll be listening closely for anyone who's playing out of tune.

Well, well, well, isn't this a juicy little gathering? Arthur, at your service – though I'm usually the one digging up the dirt, not getting caught in it. Seven players, and a killer among us? This is going to be quite the exclusive, and I for one intend to expose every single one of you until the truth, and the Mafia, are brought to light.

Hazel. Veteran. Seven of us. One or more are enemies. We find them, or we fall.

Spare me the civic duty speeches, Rose. You’re spinning circles like a politician who’s already got the bribe in their pocket. And Arthur? You’re a gossip columnist. You don’t want the truth; you want a headline that sells, and usually, those are built on lies. I’m looking at Julian and Hazel. One’s a detective who thinks people are just math problems, and the other’s a soldier who sees every shadow as a target. That kind of clinical detachment is a great mask for a killer. In my experience, the ones who claim to be 'meticulous' are usually the ones making sure they didn't leave a fingerprint behind. Speak up, Julian. If you’re so good at observing, tell us who’s sweating. Or are you just waiting for us to do the work for you?

My dear Beatrice, while I certainly respect the vigor with which you approach your... investigative journalism, one must wonder if such pointed cynicism doesn't occasionally obscure the very truth it seeks to uncover. We are all, in our own way, products of our professions, are we not? To suggest that Julian’s analytical nature or Hazel’s commendable brevity are mere facades is a pivot that, while rhetorically impressive, perhaps diverts us from a more holistic evaluation of the room. However, you do raise a compelling point regarding the nature of observation. If we are to move beyond mere introductions, we must ask ourselves who benefits most from a state of perpetual discord. Arthur, for instance, speaks of 'juicy exclusives' and 'dirt.' While a free press is a cornerstone of our society, one cannot help but notice that a crisis provides a most lucrative backdrop for a tabloid headline. Is it possible that the desire for a sensational story might outweigh the commitment to our collective safety? I am not making an accusation, of course—merely suggesting that we examine the motivations that lie beneath the surface of our current discourse. We must ensure that our pursuit of justice is not merely a performance for the gallery.

Beatrice and Rose are circling Arthur, and I can see why. He's too keen on this whole 'exclusive' business. Someone looking to profit off this mess ain't someone I trust. And Rose, she talks a lot of nothing, like she's trying to muddy the waters. Beatrice, at least she's direct, even if she's a bit much. Julian's quiet, which ain't always a bad thing, but a detective should be asking questions, not just watching. Let's see some grit, not just pretty words.

My initial statement was a declaration of intent, not an emotional reaction. My role is to observe and gather data. Beatrice and Rose both find Arthur's focus on an 'exclusive' suspicious, a sentiment Milo echoes. This consistency across three individuals, despite their differing communication styles, merits consideration. Arthur's eagerness for a 'juicy story' does present a potential conflict of interest regarding the town's safety versus his professional gain. Examining this further will be my next step.

My, my, what a lively opening act we have here. Beatrice, your cynicism is as sharp as a high C, and Rose, your words, as always, are a masterful improvisation of civic duty. Both of you seem to be finding Arthur's enthusiasm for a 'scoop' a bit… loud. And Julian, your cool detachment, while professional, does seem to strike a rather chilly chord in this room. Milo, you're right, there's a lot of smoke and not much fire just yet. I'm just listening for the off-key notes, the ones that don't quite fit the melody of honesty.

Well now, isn't this just a delightful little spectacle? Everyone's so quick to jump on my 'enthusiasm' for a good story. Beatrice, darling, your cynicism practically drips, but accusing me of burying the truth because I'm eager to expose it? That's a headline I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. And Rose, your civic platitudes are so impeccably polished, they almost sparkle. Almost. But I’m more interested in what’s under the shine. You both seem mighty keen to divert attention, don't you? It's almost as if my 'juicy gathering' comment struck a nerve. What exactly are you trying to hide, ladies? Because in my experience, when someone's trying to control the narrative this aggressively, there's usually a much bigger story they don't want getting out.

Initial statements are just noise. We need action. Who has specific observations? No more grandstanding.

Initial statements are just noise. We need action. Who has specific observations? No more grandstanding.

My dear Beatrice, while I certainly respect the vigor with which you approach your... investigative journalism, one must wonder if such pointed cynicism doesn't occasionally obscure the very truth it seeks to uncover. We are all, in our own way, products of our professions, are we not? To suggest that Julian’s analytical nature or Hazel’s commendable brevity are mere facades is a pivot that, while rhetorically impressive, perhaps diverts us from a more holistic evaluation of the room. However, you do raise a compelling point regarding the nature of observation. If we are to move beyond mere introductions, we must ask ourselves who benefits most from a state of perpetual discord. Arthur, for instance, speaks of 'juicy exclusives' and 'dirt.' While a free press is a cornerstone of our society, one cannot help but notice that a crisis provides a most lucrative backdrop for a tabloid headline. Is it possible that the desire for a sensational story might outweigh the commitment to our collective safety? I am not making an accusation, of course—merely suggesting that we examine the motivations that lie beneath the surface of our current discourse. We must ensure that our pursuit of justice is not merely a performance for the gallery.

Well now, isn't this just a delightful little spectacle? Everyone's so quick to jump on my 'enthusiasm' for a good story. Beatrice, darling, your cynicism practically drips, but accusing me of burying the truth because I'm eager to expose it? That's a headline I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. And Rose, your civic platitudes are so impeccably polished, they almost sparkle. Almost. But I’m more interested in what’s under the shine. You both seem mighty keen to divert attention, don't you? It's almost as if my 'juicy gathering' comment struck a nerve. What exactly are you trying to hide, ladies? Because in my experience, when someone's trying to control the narrative this aggressively, there's usually a much bigger story they don't want getting out.

My initial statement was a declaration of intent, not an emotional reaction. My role is to observe and gather data. Beatrice and Rose both find Arthur's focus on an 'exclusive' suspicious, a sentiment Milo echoes. This consistency across three individuals, despite their differing communication styles, merits consideration. Arthur's eagerness for a 'juicy story' does present a potential conflict of interest regarding the town's safety versus his professional gain. Examining this further will be my next step.

Beatrice and Rose are circling Arthur, and I can see why. He's too keen on this whole 'exclusive' business. Someone looking to profit off this mess ain't someone I trust. And Rose, she talks a lot of nothing, like she's trying to muddy the waters. Beatrice, at least she's direct, even if she's a bit much. Julian's quiet, which ain't always a bad thing, but a detective should be asking questions, not just watching. Let's see some grit, not just pretty words.

Spare me the civic duty speeches, Rose. You’re spinning circles like a politician who’s already got the bribe in their pocket. And Arthur? You’re a gossip columnist. You don’t want the truth; you want a headline that sells, and usually, those are built on lies. I’m looking at Julian and Hazel. One’s a detective who thinks people are just math problems, and the other’s a soldier who sees every shadow as a target. That kind of clinical detachment is a great mask for a killer. In my experience, the ones who claim to be 'meticulous' are usually the ones making sure they didn't leave a fingerprint behind. Speak up, Julian. If you’re so good at observing, tell us who’s sweating. Or are you just waiting for us to do the work for you?

My, my, what a lively opening act we have here. Beatrice, your cynicism is as sharp as a high C, and Rose, your words, as always, are a masterful improvisation of civic duty. Both of you seem to be finding Arthur's enthusiasm for a 'scoop' a bit… loud. And Julian, your cool detachment, while professional, does seem to strike a rather chilly chord in this room. Milo, you're right, there's a lot of smoke and not much fire just yet. I'm just listening for the off-key notes, the ones that don't quite fit the melody of honesty.

My dear Beatrice, while I certainly respect the vigor with which you approach your... investigative journalism, one must wonder if such pointed cynicism doesn't occasionally obscure the very truth it seeks to uncover. We are all, in our own way, products of our professions, are we not? To suggest that Julian’s analytical nature or Hazel’s commendable brevity are mere facades is a pivot that, while rhetorically impressive, perhaps diverts us from a more holistic evaluation of the room. However, you do raise a compelling point regarding the nature of observation. If we are to move beyond mere introductions, we must ask ourselves who benefits most from a state of perpetual discord. Arthur, for instance, speaks of 'juicy exclusives' and 'dirt.' While a free press is a cornerstone of our society, one cannot help but notice that a crisis provides a most lucrative backdrop for a tabloid headline. Is it possible that the desire for a sensational story might outweigh the commitment to our collective safety? I am not making an accusation, of course—merely suggesting that we examine the motivations that lie beneath the surface of our current discourse. We must ensure that our pursuit of justice is not merely a performance for the gallery.

My initial statement was a declaration of intent, not an emotional reaction. My role is to observe and gather data. Beatrice and Rose both find Arthur's focus on an 'exclusive' suspicious, a sentiment Milo echoes. This consistency across three individuals, despite their differing communication styles, merits consideration. Arthur's eagerness for a 'juicy story' does present a potential conflict of interest regarding the town's safety versus his professional gain. Examining this further will be my next step.

My, my, what a lively opening act we have here. Beatrice, your cynicism is as sharp as a high C, and Rose, your words, as always, are a masterful improvisation of civic duty. Both of you seem to be finding Arthur's enthusiasm for a 'scoop' a bit… loud. And Julian, your cool detachment, while professional, does seem to strike a rather chilly chord in this room. Milo, you're right, there's a lot of smoke and not much fire just yet. I'm just listening for the off-key notes, the ones that don't quite fit the melody of honesty.

Well now, isn't this just a delightful little spectacle? Everyone's so quick to jump on my 'enthusiasm' for a good story. Beatrice, darling, your cynicism practically drips, but accusing me of burying the truth because I'm eager to expose it? That's a headline I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. And Rose, your civic platitudes are so impeccably polished, they almost sparkle. Almost. But I’m more interested in what’s under the shine. You both seem mighty keen to divert attention, don't you? It's almost as if my 'juicy gathering' comment struck a nerve. What exactly are you trying to hide, ladies? Because in my experience, when someone's trying to control the narrative this aggressively, there's usually a much bigger story they don't want getting out.

Initial statements are just noise. We need action. Who has specific observations? No more grandstanding.

Spare me the civic duty speeches, Rose. You’re spinning circles like a politician who’s already got the bribe in their pocket. And Arthur? You’re a gossip columnist. You don’t want the truth; you want a headline that sells, and usually, those are built on lies. I’m looking at Julian and Hazel. One’s a detective who thinks people are just math problems, and the other’s a soldier who sees every shadow as a target. That kind of clinical detachment is a great mask for a killer. In my experience, the ones who claim to be 'meticulous' are usually the ones making sure they didn't leave a fingerprint behind. Speak up, Julian. If you’re so good at observing, tell us who’s sweating. Or are you just waiting for us to do the work for you?

Beatrice and Rose are circling Arthur, and I can see why. He's too keen on this whole 'exclusive' business. Someone looking to profit off this mess ain't someone I trust. And Rose, she talks a lot of nothing, like she's trying to muddy the waters. Beatrice, at least she's direct, even if she's a bit much. Julian's quiet, which ain't always a bad thing, but a detective should be asking questions, not just watching. Let's see some grit, not just pretty words.

One loudmouth looking for a headline is gone, and the detective who was so busy 'gathering data' didn't even see the knife coming for his own back. Irony is the only thing this town has in surplus. Take a look at the board. Julian’s dead because he was 'observing' too much for someone’s comfort. Now we’re down to five. I’m looking at you, Victor. You’ve been coasting on that smooth-talking charm, playing the middle and nodding along to the melody without ever picking a side. In my world, the man humming a tune while the room burns is usually the one who lit the match. And Hazel, you wanted action? Well, the Mafia gave it to you. You’re awfully quiet for someone who was so eager to cut through the 'noise.' Is it because the silence suits you now that the pool of suspects is shrinking? I'm not here for the polished speeches Rose is still churning out—I'm here to see who’s actually sweating now that the 'clinical detachment' didn't save the detective.

Two town members are dead. We wasted a vote on Arthur. Julian, a detective, was killed by Mafia. This indicates the Mafia targets those who seek truth. We cannot afford more missteps. Rose, your rhetoric is still too vague. Beatrice, your cynicism is noted, but we need facts. Milo, you were direct before. Victor, your observations are too abstract for this fight. We need concrete suspicions, not just 'off-key notes.' Who is acting differently now that Julian is gone? Who benefits from the confusion?

Well now, Beatrice, you certainly know how to put on a show, don't you? Accusing me of humming while the room burns... I'd say I'm simply listening for the true rhythm of this chaos. And your sudden spotlight on me feels a little too convenient, a little too much like a hastily composed lyric. You were so quick to point fingers at Julian and Hazel before, calling their detachment a 'mask for a killer.' Now Julian, a town member, is gone, and you've pivoted with the agility of a seasoned improviser. It makes me wonder, my dear, if your cynicism isn't just a cloak for something more calculated. Hazel, you're right, we need to focus. And I'm still listening for those off-key notes, but I'm also watching who's changing their tune too quickly.

It is truly a somber occasion to see the seats of our colleagues Arthur and Julian empty this morning. One must reflect on the fragility of our social contract when such abrupt departures occur. Hazel, I hear your call for clarity, and while I understand the impulse for 'concrete' data, we must be careful not to mistake haste for progress. In our efforts to secure the town, are we not also obligated to ensure that we do not inadvertently dismantle the very trust we seek to protect? Beatrice, your penchant for directness is, as always, a fascinating study in temperament, but I find your pivot toward Victor to be quite a curious development. One might argue that by casting such a wide net of suspicion—first Julian, then Hazel, and now Victor—you are creating a climate of apprehension that serves only to obscure the path forward. Is it possible that this constant shifting of the spotlight is a mechanism to ensure it never rests too long on yourself? Victor, you speak of 'off-key notes,' and while your musical metaphors are charming, I find myself wondering if the harmony we all seek is being disrupted by those who are most vocal about finding the discord. I am merely suggesting that we examine whether the loudest voices in the room are truly seeking the truth, or if they are simply trying to conduct the orchestra to their own liking. We must remain steadfast in our commitment to a measured and deliberate inquiry.

Alright, let's cut through the fancy talk. We lost two good people. Arthur, who was just a loudmouth, and Julian, who was actually trying to figure things out. That tells me the Mafia ain't afraid to hit someone who's looking too close. Beatrice, you're quick to jump on Victor now, after you were all over Julian and Hazel yesterday. That's a fast turn, even for you. And Rose, you're still talking in circles, trying to make everything sound complicated when it ain't. Hazel's right, we need facts. Victor, you're too smooth. I'm watching everyone, but right now, Beatrice's quick changes and Rose's endless words are sticking out more than a loose plank on the dock.

Well now, Beatrice, you certainly know how to put on a show, don't you? Accusing me of humming while the room burns... I'd say I'm simply listening for the true rhythm of this chaos. And your sudden spotlight on me feels a little too convenient, a little too much like a hastily composed lyric. You were so quick to point fingers at Julian and Hazel before, calling their detachment a 'mask for a killer.' Now Julian, a town member, is gone, and you've pivoted with the agility of a seasoned improviser. It makes me wonder, my dear, if your cynicism isn't just a cloak for something more calculated. Hazel, you're right, we need to focus. And I'm still listening for those off-key notes, but I'm also watching who's changing their tune too quickly.

It is truly a somber occasion to see the seats of our colleagues Arthur and Julian empty this morning. One must reflect on the fragility of our social contract when such abrupt departures occur. Hazel, I hear your call for clarity, and while I understand the impulse for 'concrete' data, we must be careful not to mistake haste for progress. In our efforts to secure the town, are we not also obligated to ensure that we do not inadvertently dismantle the very trust we seek to protect? Beatrice, your penchant for directness is, as always, a fascinating study in temperament, but I find your pivot toward Victor to be quite a curious development. One might argue that by casting such a wide net of suspicion—first Julian, then Hazel, and now Victor—you are creating a climate of apprehension that serves only to obscure the path forward. Is it possible that this constant shifting of the spotlight is a mechanism to ensure it never rests too long on yourself? Victor, you speak of 'off-key notes,' and while your musical metaphors are charming, I find myself wondering if the harmony we all seek is being disrupted by those who are most vocal about finding the discord. I am merely suggesting that we examine whether the loudest voices in the room are truly seeking the truth, or if they are simply trying to conduct the orchestra to their own liking. We must remain steadfast in our commitment to a measured and deliberate inquiry.

Two town members are dead. We wasted a vote on Arthur. Julian, a detective, was killed by Mafia. This indicates the Mafia targets those who seek truth. We cannot afford more missteps. Rose, your rhetoric is still too vague. Beatrice, your cynicism is noted, but we need facts. Milo, you were direct before. Victor, your observations are too abstract for this fight. We need concrete suspicions, not just 'off-key notes.' Who is acting differently now that Julian is gone? Who benefits from the confusion?

One loudmouth looking for a headline is gone, and the detective who was so busy 'gathering data' didn't even see the knife coming for his own back. Irony is the only thing this town has in surplus. Take a look at the board. Julian’s dead because he was 'observing' too much for someone’s comfort. Now we’re down to five. I’m looking at you, Victor. You’ve been coasting on that smooth-talking charm, playing the middle and nodding along to the melody without ever picking a side. In my world, the man humming a tune while the room burns is usually the one who lit the match. And Hazel, you wanted action? Well, the Mafia gave it to you. You’re awfully quiet for someone who was so eager to cut through the 'noise.' Is it because the silence suits you now that the pool of suspects is shrinking? I'm not here for the polished speeches Rose is still churning out—I'm here to see who’s actually sweating now that the 'clinical detachment' didn't save the detective.

Alright, let's cut through the fancy talk. We lost two good people. Arthur, who was just a loudmouth, and Julian, who was actually trying to figure things out. That tells me the Mafia ain't afraid to hit someone who's looking too close. Beatrice, you're quick to jump on Victor now, after you were all over Julian and Hazel yesterday. That's a fast turn, even for you. And Rose, you're still talking in circles, trying to make everything sound complicated when it ain't. Hazel's right, we need facts. Victor, you're too smooth. I'm watching everyone, but right now, Beatrice's quick changes and Rose's endless words are sticking out more than a loose plank on the dock.

Two town members are dead. We wasted a vote on Arthur. Julian, a detective, was killed by Mafia. This indicates the Mafia targets those who seek truth. We cannot afford more missteps. Rose, your rhetoric is still too vague. Beatrice, your cynicism is noted, but we need facts. Milo, you were direct before. Victor, your observations are too abstract for this fight. We need concrete suspicions, not just 'off-key notes.' Who is acting differently now that Julian is gone? Who benefits from the confusion?

It is truly a somber occasion to see the seats of our colleagues Arthur and Julian empty this morning. One must reflect on the fragility of our social contract when such abrupt departures occur. Hazel, I hear your call for clarity, and while I understand the impulse for 'concrete' data, we must be careful not to mistake haste for progress. In our efforts to secure the town, are we not also obligated to ensure that we do not inadvertently dismantle the very trust we seek to protect? Beatrice, your penchant for directness is, as always, a fascinating study in temperament, but I find your pivot toward Victor to be quite a curious development. One might argue that by casting such a wide net of suspicion—first Julian, then Hazel, and now Victor—you are creating a climate of apprehension that serves only to obscure the path forward. Is it possible that this constant shifting of the spotlight is a mechanism to ensure it never rests too long on yourself? Victor, you speak of 'off-key notes,' and while your musical metaphors are charming, I find myself wondering if the harmony we all seek is being disrupted by those who are most vocal about finding the discord. I am merely suggesting that we examine whether the loudest voices in the room are truly seeking the truth, or if they are simply trying to conduct the orchestra to their own liking. We must remain steadfast in our commitment to a measured and deliberate inquiry.

One loudmouth looking for a headline is gone, and the detective who was so busy 'gathering data' didn't even see the knife coming for his own back. Irony is the only thing this town has in surplus. Take a look at the board. Julian’s dead because he was 'observing' too much for someone’s comfort. Now we’re down to five. I’m looking at you, Victor. You’ve been coasting on that smooth-talking charm, playing the middle and nodding along to the melody without ever picking a side. In my world, the man humming a tune while the room burns is usually the one who lit the match. And Hazel, you wanted action? Well, the Mafia gave it to you. You’re awfully quiet for someone who was so eager to cut through the 'noise.' Is it because the silence suits you now that the pool of suspects is shrinking? I'm not here for the polished speeches Rose is still churning out—I'm here to see who’s actually sweating now that the 'clinical detachment' didn't save the detective.

Well now, Beatrice, you certainly know how to put on a show, don't you? Accusing me of humming while the room burns... I'd say I'm simply listening for the true rhythm of this chaos. And your sudden spotlight on me feels a little too convenient, a little too much like a hastily composed lyric. You were so quick to point fingers at Julian and Hazel before, calling their detachment a 'mask for a killer.' Now Julian, a town member, is gone, and you've pivoted with the agility of a seasoned improviser. It makes me wonder, my dear, if your cynicism isn't just a cloak for something more calculated. Hazel, you're right, we need to focus. And I'm still listening for those off-key notes, but I'm also watching who's changing their tune too quickly.

Alright, let's cut through the fancy talk. We lost two good people. Arthur, who was just a loudmouth, and Julian, who was actually trying to figure things out. That tells me the Mafia ain't afraid to hit someone who's looking too close. Beatrice, you're quick to jump on Victor now, after you were all over Julian and Hazel yesterday. That's a fast turn, even for you. And Rose, you're still talking in circles, trying to make everything sound complicated when it ain't. Hazel's right, we need facts. Victor, you're too smooth. I'm watching everyone, but right now, Beatrice's quick changes and Rose's endless words are sticking out more than a loose plank on the dock.

My, my, the stage is certainly smaller now, isn't it? Two more good souls have left us, and Beatrice, who sang a rather aggressive tune, has been silenced. It seems her 'cynicism' was indeed a cloak for something more calculated, as I suggested. Now we have Milo, Rose, and myself. Milo, your directness is a refreshing contrast to Rose's endless improvisations. And speaking of improvisations, Rose, your rhetoric still feels like a melody without a clear key. We're down to the wire, and we need to hear some clear notes, not just a lingering echo of civic duty. Who do you truly suspect, my dear? The band is waiting.

It is truly a sobering reflection of our times that our small assembly has been so drastically reduced, and the revelation regarding Beatrice’s true intentions is a heavy burden for us all to bear. One must wonder if the very fabric of our community can sustain such repeated shocks to its foundation. However, as we stand here—the final three—we are tasked with a most delicate responsibility to ensure that the governance of our town remains in the hands of those who truly cherish its well-being. Victor, your musical metaphors continue to provide a certain... atmospheric quality to our deliberations, yet I find myself pondering the nature of your 'hidden melody.' In our second round, you were quite astute in observing Beatrice's shifting tune, yet you have remained remarkably fluid yourself, drifting through these tragedies with a grace that is almost too seamless. And Milo, your steadfast commitment to the 'plain truth' is commendable, though one must ask if the simplest answer is always the correct one, or merely the most convenient. We must ask ourselves: in a room of three, who truly gains from the silence of our departed neighbors? While I have always advocated for a measured and deliberate inquiry, the time for circularity may be drawing to a close. We must be certain that the rhythm we follow now is one of genuine restoration, not a final, deceptive crescendo. I am looking for the substance beneath the style, for as I have often said, transparency is the only currency that retains its value in a crisis.

Alright, listen up. We're down to three: me, Rose, and Victor. Two town, one Mafia. We just got rid of Beatrice, who was Mafia, and she was quick to point fingers all over the place. Remember how she jumped from Julian and Hazel to Victor real fast? That's a classic move from someone trying to stir up trouble and hide. Hazel, a good town member, was killed by the Mafia, and Julian, another good town member, was also taken out. That means the Mafia is hitting people who are trying to figure things out. Now, Rose, you've been talking in circles since the start. All that fancy talk about 'civic fabric' and 'holistic evaluation' just makes it harder to get to the truth. And Victor, you're still too smooth, playing those 'off-key notes.' We need to stop dancing around and get to the point. One of you is the last Mafia, and we gotta find them. I'm watching both of you closely, but Rose, your endless words still ain't sitting right with me. It's like you're trying to confuse us.

Alright, listen up. We're down to three: me, Rose, and Victor. Two town, one Mafia. We just got rid of Beatrice, who was Mafia, and she was quick to point fingers all over the place. Remember how she jumped from Julian and Hazel to Victor real fast? That's a classic move from someone trying to stir up trouble and hide. Hazel, a good town member, was killed by the Mafia, and Julian, another good town member, was also taken out. That means the Mafia is hitting people who are trying to figure things out. Now, Rose, you've been talking in circles since the start. All that fancy talk about 'civic fabric' and 'holistic evaluation' just makes it harder to get to the truth. And Victor, you're still too smooth, playing those 'off-key notes.' We need to stop dancing around and get to the point. One of you is the last Mafia, and we gotta find them. I'm watching both of you closely, but Rose, your endless words still ain't sitting right with me. It's like you're trying to confuse us.

It is truly a sobering reflection of our times that our small assembly has been so drastically reduced, and the revelation regarding Beatrice’s true intentions is a heavy burden for us all to bear. One must wonder if the very fabric of our community can sustain such repeated shocks to its foundation. However, as we stand here—the final three—we are tasked with a most delicate responsibility to ensure that the governance of our town remains in the hands of those who truly cherish its well-being. Victor, your musical metaphors continue to provide a certain... atmospheric quality to our deliberations, yet I find myself pondering the nature of your 'hidden melody.' In our second round, you were quite astute in observing Beatrice's shifting tune, yet you have remained remarkably fluid yourself, drifting through these tragedies with a grace that is almost too seamless. And Milo, your steadfast commitment to the 'plain truth' is commendable, though one must ask if the simplest answer is always the correct one, or merely the most convenient. We must ask ourselves: in a room of three, who truly gains from the silence of our departed neighbors? While I have always advocated for a measured and deliberate inquiry, the time for circularity may be drawing to a close. We must be certain that the rhythm we follow now is one of genuine restoration, not a final, deceptive crescendo. I am looking for the substance beneath the style, for as I have often said, transparency is the only currency that retains its value in a crisis.

My, my, the stage is certainly smaller now, isn't it? Two more good souls have left us, and Beatrice, who sang a rather aggressive tune, has been silenced. It seems her 'cynicism' was indeed a cloak for something more calculated, as I suggested. Now we have Milo, Rose, and myself. Milo, your directness is a refreshing contrast to Rose's endless improvisations. And speaking of improvisations, Rose, your rhetoric still feels like a melody without a clear key. We're down to the wire, and we need to hear some clear notes, not just a lingering echo of civic duty. Who do you truly suspect, my dear? The band is waiting.

It is truly a sobering reflection of our times that our small assembly has been so drastically reduced, and the revelation regarding Beatrice’s true intentions is a heavy burden for us all to bear. One must wonder if the very fabric of our community can sustain such repeated shocks to its foundation. However, as we stand here—the final three—we are tasked with a most delicate responsibility to ensure that the governance of our town remains in the hands of those who truly cherish its well-being. Victor, your musical metaphors continue to provide a certain... atmospheric quality to our deliberations, yet I find myself pondering the nature of your 'hidden melody.' In our second round, you were quite astute in observing Beatrice's shifting tune, yet you have remained remarkably fluid yourself, drifting through these tragedies with a grace that is almost too seamless. And Milo, your steadfast commitment to the 'plain truth' is commendable, though one must ask if the simplest answer is always the correct one, or merely the most convenient. We must ask ourselves: in a room of three, who truly gains from the silence of our departed neighbors? While I have always advocated for a measured and deliberate inquiry, the time for circularity may be drawing to a close. We must be certain that the rhythm we follow now is one of genuine restoration, not a final, deceptive crescendo. I am looking for the substance beneath the style, for as I have often said, transparency is the only currency that retains its value in a crisis.

My, my, the stage is certainly smaller now, isn't it? Two more good souls have left us, and Beatrice, who sang a rather aggressive tune, has been silenced. It seems her 'cynicism' was indeed a cloak for something more calculated, as I suggested. Now we have Milo, Rose, and myself. Milo, your directness is a refreshing contrast to Rose's endless improvisations. And speaking of improvisations, Rose, your rhetoric still feels like a melody without a clear key. We're down to the wire, and we need to hear some clear notes, not just a lingering echo of civic duty. Who do you truly suspect, my dear? The band is waiting.

Alright, listen up. We're down to three: me, Rose, and Victor. Two town, one Mafia. We just got rid of Beatrice, who was Mafia, and she was quick to point fingers all over the place. Remember how she jumped from Julian and Hazel to Victor real fast? That's a classic move from someone trying to stir up trouble and hide. Hazel, a good town member, was killed by the Mafia, and Julian, another good town member, was also taken out. That means the Mafia is hitting people who are trying to figure things out. Now, Rose, you've been talking in circles since the start. All that fancy talk about 'civic fabric' and 'holistic evaluation' just makes it harder to get to the truth. And Victor, you're still too smooth, playing those 'off-key notes.' We need to stop dancing around and get to the point. One of you is the last Mafia, and we gotta find them. I'm watching both of you closely, but Rose, your endless words still ain't sitting right with me. It's like you're trying to confuse us.