Page 173 of The Blairville Legacies

This phone call was none of my business, and Emely probably hadn’t noticed I was sitting here because the TV had been on since she got here, and I was very quiet and unobtrusive at the moment.

“But because it’s you and I promised you we’d give updates once a month,” the guy continued. “Wait a minute.” He laughed in disbelief, and I’d have to be lying if I said his laugh was unattractive. “Do I hearOliver Bexleyin the background right now?” He laughed again, this time gleefully. “Are youstillstalking your middle school crush?”

I wheeled around to Emely in astonishment. “No way!”

Emely wheeled around as well, spotting me with a startled look.

“Who’s that?” the man asked.

Emely immediately reached for it and pressed the display. Then she took a deep breath and started walking around the kitchen with her cell phone to her ear, stacking bowls from the sink.

“Humans,” she sighed. “The campus is full of humans.”

I didn’t know what should concern me more. That Emely did have a crush on the weatherman, or that she obviously had issues with her fellow human beings.

“Yeah, I’ll have to get used to it,” she continued, confirming to me that she no longer had her caller on speakerphone. “But why I’m actually calling...” She sighed again. “Julian and Nash are acting like children. Nash isn’t doing anything at all to prepare for his future role, and Julian doesn’t want to come to us.” Her voice seemed stressed. “Yes, the usual. And on top of that, they seem to hate each other now, even though there are enoughotherproblematic people running around here.”

I stifled a grin. This girl was strange, but right now, she seemed to me as if this conversation was doing her good. At least, this was the first time I didn’t see her looking hostile.

“Blairville Dailywith Breaking News!”

I looked back at the giant TV, and suddenly, the lively news presenter with a fake face – Oliver’s father – was on screen.

“We apologize for the brief interruption in the weather forecast, however, a tragic accident occurred – according to experts – last night, on the borders of Fogs Forest. Two hours ago, a pair of walkers found a body. The victim is a young woman, but her identity is unrecognizable as her face is torn open.”

Shock spread through my body, making me lower my laptop. In the corner of my eye, I saw Emely step closer.

“Harriet on the scene, with the details.”

The man disappeared and a woman with a perm emerged, behind her a dense forest of fog, police officers and more reporters frantically rushing through the camera footage.

“The whole police department is here, and it’s hard to get to the scene, but Detective Bardot is willing to give an interview.”

A stressed-looking man in a police uniform with a gray hairline appeared on the screen. Written in the corner of the screen wasHead Detective Graham Bardot.

Wait a minute. Wasn’t this Julian also calledBardot?

“Detective,” the woman began, holding the microphone in front of him. “Are there any bite marks? Is it possibly an animal attack?”

The policeman’s jaw began to work. “No, not an animal attack.”

“Is it a murder?”

The policeman hesitated. “Probably. However, we’re waiting for the lab results from DLSC.”

“Graham, we need you for a second...” another cop called out, and immediately they switched back to the studio.

“This is frightening news for residents of this city, but we ask that you remain calm,” the newsreader said with a dismayed expression.

“The question of whether the young woman is one of the many people missing is still unclear. However, we are now officially warning people not to enter the woods.”

“Kieran...” Emely whispered barely audibly into her phone next to me. The look on her face was the epitome of shock. “I have to go.”

And with those words, Emely stormed out of the house.

I was still sitting on the couch, paralyzed, even when the newsreader continued and switched back to the scene where the body was found.

Her face was torn open.

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