Gabriel was correct. It was not Anthony. The body did not belong to the bully. It was nothing like him. Thank gosh. But I still did not know whether to be relieved or fearing for my and Adalee's lives. It may not have been us or Anthony - but we could be next. Why am I saying this? 'Cause a killer was on the loose.

How many killers are going to appear in this series?

It was painfully obvious that this man was stabbed. He looked to be in his thirties or forties and had pale skin. He was taller than all the students and leaning against the lockers. His hair was short and blonde, and he was wearing a jean jacket with black pants and black shoes. Adalee and I had never seen him before.

"Do you know who the man is?" one of the cops asked. "He does not have identification on him."

Adalee and I shook our heads.

I crossed my arms and said, "I wish that we could help, but we do not have a clue who he is."

"We have never seen him before in our lives," my sister added. She bent down and scooped up a small piece of paper.

"What is it?" I asked.

She looked at me as if I had lost my mind. She held the paper up. "Now what do you think that this is?"

"I do not know. That is why I am asking you."

"It is paper. A piece of paper."

"I know that it is paper." I ran a hand through my hair. "I was wondering if anything was written on it."

"Oh." She looked back at the paper. "Aside from all the red spots - which I take are blood stains - something is written on this paper."

"What does it say?" another officer asked.

"There is only one word on here. It is in black ink."

I felt Gabriel holding my hand. "Tell us, sis. What is it? What is the word?"

"Would you give me a minute? I am having a hard time reading it. Sheesh." She brought the paper close to her face. "Whoever wrote it has the worst handwriting."

I noticed one of the officers jotting down notes. "So the suspect has sloppy handwriting," he stated. "I can only imagine how sloppy it is."

Adalee squinted at the paper. "It will make you want to retire early. That is how sloppy it is."

"Can you read the word now?" Gabriel asked. "I do not think that it is that difficult to read."

She faced him. "Would you like to do the honors? But I am warning you that you will get a headache."

He opened his mouth to speak, but Adalee continued.

"Besides, I already figured out what it says."

We waited for her to tell us, but she did not.

"Well?" I said. "Do not keep us in suspense. What does it say?"

"'Accept,' Allison. The word is 'accept.'"

Adalee, Gabriel, and I watched as the paramedics went to work. We were outside and comforting one another. Or at least that we were trying to. It is hard to comfort a person when he or she heard about the corpse or saw it with his or her own eyes. Let me tell you that there is a difference between hearing of a body and seeing one. A major difference.

I tugged on the fabric of my shirt. My heart went out to the man. He did not deserve to die this way. He did not deserve to get stabbed. Someone's last moments on the planet should not go out with a whimper, but innocent folks are murdered every day. I cannot imagine getting stabbed and dying in the locker room. I do not want it. I do not want it at all, and I bet that most of you do not want that either.

I do not know how I want to die, but I definitely do not want to pass in someone else's hands. It is so wrong to steal another life for your own selfish desires. Like that what the drunk driver did to me. To our family. I could have died because of him.

A minute after two of the paramedics vanished into the building, Gabriel wrapped his arms around my and my sister's shoulders and said, "I say that we get ice cream to ease our brains." He licked his lips. "I am craving for mint ice cream."

"You like mint ice cream?" Adalee questioned.

"Yeah. Who does not love mint ice cream?"

I pointed at my sister. "She does not."

We stopped at the ice cream parlor - the best ice cream in Forlot - and ordered. We also ordered a container of vanilla ice cream to eat at home because the vanilla ice cream is the best vanilla ice cream that you will have in your lifetime. This was according to Gabriel.

"We will see about that," I said to him with a grin.

We received our ice cream and headed for home. I was eating a blueberry ice cream, and Adalee got chocolate. She loves her chocolate. I swear that she eats chocolate every day. And no. She does not share with me or with anyone else unless that she feels sorry for us.

"How is the chocolate ice cream?" I asked. "Is it hitting the spot?"

She stopped licking and looked up at me. "How can my ice cream be hitting the spot when food cannot hit any spots?"

"She means if it tastes good," Gabriel told her. "That is what hitting the spot means."

She looked at him. Then back at me. "Could you please start talking normally again?"

"We are talking normally," I said.

"Not when you are using language like 'hit the spot.'"

We reached home and walked to the porch. But before we got on the porch, Gabriel said, "We should go to the back."

"Why?" I asked.

He smirked. "For the fun."