- STEVEN -

Ahmed was sitting in the lobby staring at the wall when we arrived.

"That's weird," I mused. "Where's the receptionist?"

When he saw Sam's headlights, Ahmed stood up and hurried outside, climbing into the backseat the moment he made it to the car.

"Dude, what's going on?" was my first question.

"I—I don't know," he began as Sam shifted the car to drive and we jetted off and around the block. "Irina just...left us."

"What about Alice? Mrs. Gravestepper was saying something before. What was it?"

Ahmed shuddered. "Steven, it's insane. The way Mrs. Gravestepper tells the story, Alice was Lane's sister who ran away from home after she got kicked out of school. Somehow, she made it to California and became a stripper at a night club, then cut off all contact with her mom after she wouldn't let her visit Lane anymore."

"Whoa," I breathed. "How old was she? Lane, I mean. How old was she when Alice left?"

"Not old enough to remember. Irina's mom said Alice got thrown out of EdgeWay less than two years after Lane was born; everyone here thought Alice'd just disappeared. But then Lane's dad died, and Alice showed up at the funeral. Mrs. Gravestepper said she just sat in the back and twirled her hair, staring at her mom and daring her to say something. She left flowers on her dad's grave, then disappeared all over again.

"Then everything with Lane happened twelve years ago, and Mrs. Martin tried her best to find her. The police searched the Martin residence and found blond hair in the bushes outside the home. Irina's mom thought it might've been Lane's, but Mrs. Martin was almost certain it was Alice's. And get this—a few days later, the police found more blond strands a few neighborhoods over...at Ms. Charity's house."

I exhaled. "Charity said she knew Lane—that she loved her. I guess this is what she meant, but...why would Lane be at her house?"

"I don't know." Ahmed lowered his head. "But the freakiest part is where they found the strands. They were outside, stuck to a latch on the window pane."

I paused. "But how did the cops know to look there?"

"That's the part I don't get either, and neither did Irina's mom. She got all her info secondhand from Mrs. Martin, and she really didn't want to pry. But it doesn't make any sense. I mean, put this timeline with those photos of Lane in that file we found, and it just doesn't add up."

I shivered. "Yeah, Ahmed...yeah, it does." I stole a knowing glance at Sam, his face darkening.

"Why?" Ahmed queried. "You guys, what's going on?"

"Steven's dad..." Sam started, his voice skipping a beat. "He raped Lane that night. And Glenn Clather was in on it."

Ahmed sighed. "So Marissa was right."

"Yeah." I bowed my head. "Dad says he has no idea what happened to Lane afterwards—she just ran off into the woods and vanished."

"I was visiting Bethany when...I ran into her," Sam added. "She looked so freaked, so scared..." His words began to break with tears. "She hid under a bunch of leaves, and that's the last time I ever saw her."

The tires screeched underneath us, and Sam pulled over to the side of the road, covering his eyes with his hands. "I'm sorry, guys," he spoke in crackling whisper.

"Sam, hey..." Ahmed tried. "It's alright; you don't have to be sorry." He reached to the front and gripped Sam's left shoulder.

I just crossed my arms and lowered my head, sitting back in my seat.

"She was twelve." Sam's voice ached. "She was twelve years old..."

Ahmed turned to me as he left one hand still on Sam's shoulder. "We should call Prudence," he mused as Sam sniffled. "After everything Mrs. Gravestepper said, everything you guys just said—someone should give her an update. About all of this."

I nodded. "You're right." I fiddled around in my pocket, shoving my keys to the side to grab my phone.

"Hey, Steven, um...just curious," Ahmed said as I scrolled through the contacts on my phone. "Why'd you drop the call earlier? Back at the coffee shop?"

"Oh, it was Cam," I said nonchalantly as I found Prudence's number. "Right after I called you, he caught me by surprise, and I dropped my phone by accident."

"Hold on—Steven, wait." Ahmed's eyes grew wide just as I was about to press Call. "Cam was in the coffee shop with you? With you and...Alice?"

I quirked a brow. "Yeah, he was talking to her, but he was just scared about Anna and...look, it's a long story. But we know Alice is guilty of at least murdering Marissa, and we know what she looks like. That's enough to help Prudence get the cops off our backs and on the right track to finding Alice—and Lane."

"But why did she just run away?" Ahmed asked. "Steven, why would she just sit there—just talk to Cam, twirl her hair, and leave?"

I shifted. "What're you saying?"

"I'm saying maybe she and Cam were more than just talking..."

I quirked a brow at him. "You think Cam has something to do with this?"

Ahmed paused. "There were two people in your house that day, right? The blond girl and the monster-looking thing that attacked you? Did that girl look like Alice...and did that guy look like—?"

"CAM!" I turned to Sam, then twisted his keys in the ignition. "Dude, move over!" I ordered.

Sam slowly lifted his head as I unlocked the driver's seat door and pushed it open. "Switch with me," I barked. "I'll drive—we've gotta get to the lakehouse."

His face still thinly streaked with fresh tears, Sam didn't put up a fight; he stepped out of the car on the driver's side, then shuffled over to the passenger seat as I climbed over the gear shift to take his place at the wheel.

I didn't even wait for the sound of his seatbelt buckle to click before I sped back onto the main road. "Call Prudence!" I yelped at Ahmed, tossing my phone to the backseat.

He caught the phone, then pressed Call the moment the screen lit up in his hands.

"Hello?" came Prudence's voice over the speakerphone.

"It's Cam!" I screamed. "Cam and Mia! They're the ones who attacked me!"

"Steven, slow down. Who's Mia?"

"Mia Sasher! She's roommates with Marissa—except that's not even her real name. She's Alice Martin, Lane's older sister who ran away to California!" My words escaped between sporadic breaths as I pressed my foot harder and harder against Sam's accelerator.

"Where are you now?" Prudence asked.

"Headed to the lake house—my family's, out at Lake Deliver; Cam said something about meeting his girlfriend there..."

"Wait—you spoke with him? Tonight?"

"Prudence, it's a long story, but I just...we need your help right now. Irina's missing, and I think Anna might be in serious danger."

Momentary silence echoed on the other end. "Alright," Prudence finally answered. "I'll have a team search for Irina, and I'm headed to the lake house right now—it shouldn't take me more than fifteen minutes to get there from this station."

"Fifteen minutes!?" I screeched. "Anna doesn't have fifteen minutes!"

"You don't know that, Steven. We don't even know that Anna's in danger—"

"I'm almost there," I interrupted. "To the lake house. It's just a few streets up, and—"

"Do not engage Cameron and Alice," Prudence ordered. "They're likely armed, and if your suspicions are correct, they're both highly dangerous..."

"I can't just let Anna get killed!" I yelled back at the speaker. "I can't just sit by while...while someone else dies...because of my family..." I looked up from the road, spotted light through one of the lake house's upper windows as I pulled underneath a branch of low-hanging foliage to park Sam's car.

"Steven, I am not going to repeat myself," Prudence said sternly. "You stay away from that lake house until I—"

Click! I snatched my phone from Ahmed's hand and pressed End Call.

Sam looked up from the passenger's side for the first time, his eyes locking firmly with mine.

"Steven..." Ahmed tremored from the back seat. "You're not serious—"

"I'm dead serious," I spat back at him. "You two can wait here if you want, but I'm going inside. I can't just sit back—not again...not anymore." With a trembling hand, I twisted the keys to turn off the car, the engine sputtering to silence as I unclicked the driver's door and shoved it open. Standing against the shivering wind, I took two nervous steps into the night.

"If you're going in, then so am I," Sam was the next to speak, unlocking his door and stepping out as well.

I turned to face the backseat, to stare at Ahmed as he sat unmoving, his shoulders hunched, his body shaking—both eyes peering warily forward, drenched with terror.

"Stay here," I relented, easing my tone. "You don't have to come inside, Ahmed. Stay in the car, wait for Prudence, tell her everything." I wasn't sure if he heard me through the glass windows, but he nodded after a moment's hesitation. "The keys are still in the ignition," I said a bit louder. "Make sure you lock the doors."

With that, I turned my back to him, twisted to face the two-story lake house towering before me.

I took off running, and Sam started running too. We made it to the house in seconds, and I fished my keys out of my pocket before sliding them inside the dark frame staring imposingly back at me.

The smoothed wood creaked as we pushed the door ajar, and darkness welcomed us inside the cavernous space.

I drew a single finger over my lips as I glanced at Sam, signaling for silence as we tiptoed deeper into the thick surrounding ebony.

Without warning, Anna's terrified pitch tore through the air, a screech that felt like it was slicing into my eardrums as it reverberated down the stairs and all throughout the house.

"ANNA!" I called out, breaking my silence no sooner than it'd begun. I bolted for the stairs and ascended them two at a time. "Anna, I'm coming!" I hollered through the echoing air.

I sprinted to the room second from last at the end of the hall and twisted the knob before swinging its door wide open—and the moment I did, I screamed a scream of my very own.

For it was not Anna who lay upon the bed, arms tied with construction rope to either pointed edge of the headboard; it was not Anna whose shirt was ripped in two to reveal a swollen chest mutilated by a single carving—a heart-shaped wound filled in with streaks of liquid red; it was not Anna whose eyes bulged as if they'd been gouged and reset in their sockets, sitting now upon identical cusps of clotting blood; it was not Anna whose jaw hung agape as two knives protruded in parallel, dripping darkness onto the bedsheets below; it was not Anna whose maimed corpse sat before me, the wall above plastered in deep crimson: Without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness.

It was not Anna propped lifeless on a mattress of dark splotches...it was Cam.

I was shaking, pure terror writhing over every inch of my body. This doesn't make any sense—my brain felt like it was falling apart. Standing there, just looking at Cam's body, I thought I was gonna lose it.

Footsteps sounded up the stairs, plodding through the hallway behind me.

"Sam," my words came out cracked, trembling as the footsteps grew nearer. "Dude, I can't believe it..."

"Well, isn't that a surprise?" said a satined, sultry voice.

I gasped, whirled around to the doorway.

"And here I thought you preachers' kids did nothing but believe..."

"Wh—who are you?" I quivered, frozen in place. That voice...it can't be...

"Just a girl," she mused, her words a lathered velvet. "Just a twelve-year-old girl who no one believed..."

She still stood within the artificial umbrage cast by the walls, but I could make out the somber waves of hair that rested above her shoulder. As what looked to be a smile spread across her face, she reached upward and tugged at the darkness cascading from the top of her head.

A wig of brown dropped to the floor, and bright blond locks sailed amid the hallway shadows, finding their place just above the girl's breasts.

"You're her," I managed, my voice lowering. "Lane Alexandria Martin."

Laughter. "Alexandria—that's such an ugly old name, and such a mouthful." She raised a single finger to her hair, then stepped into the light. "You can call me Anna." She smiled a devious, diabolical smile. "Anna Carlisle."