As Andra climbed into bed that night she was still thinking over everything she had learned about Savannah's death, trying to make sense of it. Conrad had given them plenty of new insight into Savannah's last days, but the pieces still didn't quite fit. She couldn't seem to escape the nagging feeling that some key detail was still missing.

Worse was in the spare moments when she wasn't worrying over Savannah, she was thinking of Cameron.

She had surprised herself by being so open with him about what she had seen. She didn't trust people easily and that situation had only been complicated by things that had happened before she and her mother had moved, but that was not something she was ready to discuss with him. She didn't like the idea of Cameron thinking she was crazy, but that was preferable to him feeling sorry for her.

That did, however, say a lot about how comfortable she was with Cameron that she could talk to him about as much as she had. In turn, maybe it said a lot about her feelings for him.

She couldn't deny the fact that she was attracted to him, but all that meant was that she wasn't blind. Cameron was just one of those guys. He always looked like he had just stepped off a runway somewhere and Andra would be willing to bet that he woke up looking like that. She had wondered more than once about his family. He never talked about them much, but she imagined they were nothing less than extraordinarily good-looking. If not, then Cameron was adopted and just hadn't told her yet.

The thing was, she was aware that he wanted them to graduate to something more than friends. He was only holding back because she was throwing out more mixed signals than a catcher at a Major League Baseball game.

When she and her mom had first moved here, the thought of a relationship was the farthest thing from her mind but Cameron had surprised her. She had moved past attraction into something else. The thought of seeing him brought on a severe case of butterflies and every time he flashed her his thousand-watt smile she felt her heart skip a beat. The way he had reacted to her confession this afternoon had only strengthened the feelings she was having. Suddenly, she was unsure if holding him off was really what she wanted to be doing.

Those thoughts were still running through her head when she began to doze. She had underestimated the stress of the last twenty-four hours. It had exhausted her both physically and mentally. Within moments, she was drifting on the fringes of sleep.

After some time, she became aware of an odd noise originating from somewhere in her room. At first, to her sleep confused brain, it seemed to be part of a dream, but as she heard the noise again she became convinced that it was coming from nearby.

Remembering all too well, the events of the night before, Andra was suddenly wide awake. Lying completely motionless, she listened intently to the familiar nighttime sounds that surrounded her.

She was just beginning to relax when she heard a soft scrabbling noise. If her room hadn't been carpeted, she might have imagined it to be a mouse running across the floor but that sound could only have been made against a hard surface.

Shifting anxiously, she ran her hand along the top of the bedside table searching for her phone. The thought of calling her mom, who was sleeping just down the hall, crossed her mind but she still wasn't completely sure anything was going on. She didn't want her mother roaming through the house just as paranoid as she was.

Getting in touch with Cameron seemed like the best plan of action. She had already made up her mind not to check the time on her phone when she found it. That way she could be legitimately surprised when he told her how late it was.

Andra was already plotting out the conversation they would have in her head when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. There was something at the foot of her bed and she was positive she had not imagined it. Still waiting and watching, it struck her that she was hanging half off the bed leaning toward the nightstand where anything with claws and razor-sharp teeth could reach out and pull her into the darkness.

Sliding quickly back against the wall, she suddenly felt like a much younger version of herself. The thought of diving under the covers occurred to her, but she pushed that idea away almost before it was fully formed. The fear of what might be waiting when she peeked out was bad, but the idea of what could be waiting at the foot of her bed to slide under the covers with her was even worse.

She lay there, trying to decide whether to make a grab for her phone or call for her mother when she heard the noise again. It was closer now. Lying frozen and staring into the darkness she watched as the shadows began to move and then stretch slowly forming themselves into a solid figure in the dim light.

At first, all she could make out were two eyes the size of small eggs, gelatinous and milky in appearance, watching her from just above the foot of the bed. The skeletal fingers of its hands grasped the wooden footboard on either side of its misshapen head.

Andra opened her mouth to scream but she couldn't seem to draw in a decent breath. Only the tiniest gasp escaped.

Slowly, the creature began to rise moving jerkily over the edge of the mattress. Andra felt sick as the realization struck her that the decomposing creature dragging itself toward her was none other than Savannah Miles.

Death and decay clung to Savannah like a second skin. As the stench filled Andra's nose, it brought to mind images of wet molding leaves and animals dead and swollen on the side of the highway. Bile rose in the back of her throat as she struggled to keep from being sick.

She could see that a good portion of the flesh on the girl's lower jaw and the left side of her face was gone exposing yellowed rotting teeth. It gave the impression that Savannah's deteriorating corpse was smiling maniacally at her.  The skin that was still intact, clung loosely to her skull in sickly grey wrinkles and folds.

Her hair so long, thick, and beautiful in life hung lank and thin in death. Sections of her scalp and skull showed through in places where large clumps had fallen out. The long skeletal fingers skittered across the comforter reaching for Andra and grabbing at her as she scooted backward toward the head of the bed.  Even as she tried to escape, she saw with sickening horror that ragged greyish pieces of flesh clung to the joints of Savannah's knuckles.

She still wore the black Hard Rock Cafe tee and shorts, but they hung in dirty tatters, now covered in either dirt, blood, or both. Andra could hear the dry bones of her fingers clicking and popping as the joints worked.

Somewhere deep inside, what was left of Savannah's body, came a wet squelching sound growing louder with every movement. It brought to mind vegetables that had sat too long in the sun before going soft and putrid.

Feeling her back hit the headboard she whimpered as she pulled her legs up trying to make herself as small as possible. There was nowhere left to go as Savannah grabbed her ankle the dead almost fleshless hand pulling and tugging at Andra as she drug her body forward. The cold moist weight of her pressed Andra's legs into the mattress. It was at that moment that Savannah spoke. Her voice came out in a watery growl.

"Find it." She gasped in her strange alien voice.

Tears were streaming down Andra's cheeks as the dead girl put a hand out reaching for her face.

"Find it." She said with more urgency now and as she did she pressed her decomposing fingers to Andra's temple.

When Savannah's fingers came in contact with Andra's face she felt a wave of liquid fire pour through her veins. Her back arched off the bed as her body was consumed by it. The quiet whimpers turned into high-pitched screams as she balled her fists into the checkered comforter. Savannah continued to drag herself forward her face only inches from Andra's as she whispered those two words directly into Andra's upturned face. The smell of rotting flesh engulfed her. "Find it."

Andra's vision blurred and then doubled as she was blinded by a bright flaming light. Moments later she was standing in Savannah's room in the house on Pinewood Drive. 

Savannah was lying on her stomach in the center of the daybed, feet in the air, and ankles crossed. She was healthy and very much alive. She was writing in what looked like a journal as a small stereo played softly in the corner.

From somewhere downstairs, a door slammed and someone called Savannah's name. Andra watched the girl on the bed jump like she'd been shot and then shove the small book under the nearest pillow.

"Yeah, mom." She yelled, sitting up quickly.

"I'm home and I have Chinese food."

"Sounds good," Savannah yelled back. "I'll be right down."

Pulling the little book out from under the pillow she stood quickly and tugged her bedside table out from the wall. Andra heard a low popping noise as Savannah worked with something out of her line of sight. After pushing the table back into place she stood empty-handed and headed for the door. As she did, Andra heard from a distance the sound of Savannah long dead and in her grave one last time. "Find it." She whispered. The room began to fade around Andra and then it slipped into darkness.

Opening her eyes, she saw that she was back in her room but before she had time to register what had happened the bedroom door flew open. Her mother burst in hitting the wall switch and flooding the room with light. Denise's eyes looked wild and her blonde hair stood out in unruly curls all over her head.

"What is going on in here? Are you ok?" She asked in a shrill voice.

"I'm not sure," Andra answered honestly, looking around the room but not immediately seeing anything unusual. Her cheeks were still wet with tears. As she pulled herself into a sitting position she groaned loudly. Her head was throbbing from whatever Savannah had done to her.
The world tipped crazily sideways and she had to grab the side of the bed to regain her balance before she could roll off onto the floor.

Denise hurried to her daughter's side and as she did her foot connected roughly with something on the floor. She stumbled but didn't stop to see what had tripped her.

"Andra, are you ok? What is going on with you? You were just screaming like a banshee not ten seconds ago and now you're hanging off the bed like your drunk. You need to talk to me or we're going directly to the emergency room."

Denise gave this entire speech sitting on the edge of the bed with her hand plastered to Andra's forehead and cheeks checking for a fever.

The thought of the last hand that had touched her came quickly to mind and Andra shivered pulling back from her mother's touch.

"Are you cold?" Her mom asked as she tried to adjust Andra's comforter.

"No, I'm fine I just had a nightmare," Andra answered quickly.

"What is this?" Her mom asked Andra in a disgusted voice pulling her hand back from the blankets she had been straightening.

Andra leaned forward trying to get a better look and realized that her mother was holding a ripped piece of black fabric. If Andra had to guess she thought it was probably a piece of cloth from a black Hard Rock Cafe shirt. The smell coming off of it didn't leave much room for doubt.

"I have no idea Mom." She said as she tried to keep a straight face.

Denise wrinkled her nose as she tossed it in the wastebasket beside Andra's desk.

"You're sure it was just a nightmare?" Denise asked with uncertainty in her voice.

"Yeah, mom, I'm sure."

"What were you dreaming about that scared you so badly?"

"I can't even remember," Andra said lying smoothly. "I didn't even realize I had screamed until you told me. But I'm fine now, go back to sleep I'm ok."

Her mom watched her quietly for a moment, trying to decide whether Andra was ok or if she needed to stay and keep an eye on her. Something in her daughter's face seemed to convince her that for now, everything was alright. Leaning over to kiss her daughter's forehead, Denise stood to leave. 

"I'm going to keep the door open sweetheart. If you need me just yell and I'll come running."

"Thank you, mom. You don't have to do that, though. I promise I'm fine."

"I know," her mother answered, turning toward the door. "I'm a mom. It's part of the job description."

As she started out, Andra watched her mother pause briefly as something on the floor caught her eye. As she knelt to pick it up Andra's stomach dropped down to her toes. She immediately realized what her mother had tripped over.

The item Denise had knocked over coming into the room was Andra's bag. The folder that Andra had been keeping on Savannah had fallen out scattering a few of the papers around the carpet.

Andra began to speak trying to think of how to explain the articles and notes now scattered across the floor. As Andra searched for some excuse Denise abruptly stood. She turned toward her daughter, holding Savannah's school photo out in front of her. For the second time that night, the air escaped Andra's lungs as her mother spoke in a tense voice.

"Andra, would you like to explain to me please why you have a picture of Savannah Miles?"