Page 72 of The Hallows Boys

“Do you think he did it?” I ask, sitting up as well.

She shrugs. “Who knows? Either it was a really unfortunate coincidence, or he did it and was trying to save his own ass. A girl died though, so hopefully justice was correctly served.”

She stands up. “C’mon, I’m tired.”

I stand up to follow her back to my bedroom window, ducking in after her. We crawl into my bed, get comfortable, and let sleep take us under.

* * *

My night is filled with vivid nightmares about a girl being brutally murdered, and every time I get a good look at her face, it’s me. I wake up drenched in sweat, the morning sun shining through the window and making my head pound. I slip from bed quietly, going downstairs to make some coffee to try to cure the pain in my temples.

“Morning, honey,” my grandma calls as I walk through the door to the kitchen, and I groan in response.

She chuckles a little and puts her attention back on the newspaper. I go about making coffee mindlessly, something deep inside of me itching to find out more about the story Juliet told me last night. I don’t know why it’s weighing so heavily on me, but I just want to figure it out. I’ve loved puzzles ever since I was a little girl and leaving one unsolved makes me itch. Who knows? The story may just be some made up scary story to frighten children around a campfire.

Except… coincidences don’t really happen, do they? And Blackmore has one too many secrets for this scary story to be fake. The twisted tradition of the Hallows Games sticks out in my head, and like a big, blaring red flag, they start to fit together. What if this has something to do with my parents, or the games?

Once the coffee has started to drip in the pot, I grab a cup from the cabinet and stand to watch it impatiently. I trace my fingers over the scar that’s crusting over on my neck, remembering the look on Kaiden’s face when he licked my blood from his finger.

My story could have easily been just like the girl’s from the story – naked, bound, cut – though I got multiple orgasms instead of murdered.

I spin around to look at my gran. “Do you think if I snuck out of here, you could tell Juliet when she wakes up?”

My grandmother puts the newspaper down on the table, turning around to look at me. “Why?”

I purse my lips. “I need to go to the library.”

“At nine o’clock on a Saturday?” she questions, her brow raising.

I narrow my eyes. “Can you be cool and cover for me?”

She chuckles, turning back around to grab the newspaper again. “Go on, girl. I’ll send your friend home.”

I grin, turning back around to pour some coffee into my mug, then I take a big sip of the hot liquid, savoring the bitterness on my tongue. I cross the kitchen, kissing my gran on the top of her head as I pass her. “You’re the best, gran.”

“Don’t you forget it,” she calls after me, making me laugh. I go back upstairs, creeping around like a mouse as I dig through my dresser for a change of clothes before I go into the bathroom. I slip some jeans onto my legs, then put on a hoodie, creep back into my room to grab my phone and backpack, then say a silent goodbye to Juliet as I go back downstairs.

“Be back later, gran!” I call out as I open the front door and step out into the bright morning.

I pull my backpack off as I walk, unzipping it to get my sunglasses out, then I slide them over my face.

Hopefully, the library will have some old newspapers I can comb through to find the truth about this Blackmore Tragedy, then maybe I’ll be able to sleep without getting murdered by the Hallows Boys in my dreams.

After the five-minute walk, the library comes into view at the end of Main Street, sending energy through me as I start to get excited to play FBI investigator today.

Should I be practicing my new cheer routines, or maybe just chilling out with my friend today? Yes. But, here I am.

I pull open the heavy door to the library, accepting the insanity I’ve embarked on as I step in. The space is huge, lined with endless rows of bookshelves. There’s a set of wide, wooden steps right at the opposite side of the room that lead up to another level that’s also lined with shelves and a few tables.

A huge window spans across the far wall, sunlight pouring in and creating beams over the entire library. I don’t see a librarian anywhere, but I can hear the voice of a woman talking on the phone, so I follow it up to the second level.

I inhale the perfume of all the old books around me, the feeling of contentment filling me. There’s nothing better than the smell of books, except maybe the smell of books mixed with coffee.

On the second floor, I spot an older woman sitting at a desk on the far edge of the room, talking on the phone as she stacks books. Behind her, along the wall, there’s a row of computers and what looks like an old information system. That’s where I need to be.

I smile at her as I walk past, and since she’s on the phone, she just smiles back. I drop my backpack on the ground below the more modern computer and sit down in front of the bulky, old-fashioned computer.

Thankfully, there’s a poster on the wall behind the desk that shows a step-by-step on how to use the program, otherwise I would be lost. The archives are run by keyword, and I don’t know anything about the girl from the story, so I decide to do a wide search for articles about the Blackmores to start. I might as well look for information about my ancestors while I’m here, right?

---