"Are you out of your damn mind?" Ellis snaps, keeping his voice low.
I heave a sigh, wondering how the same person can be so stuck-up and yet so obnoxious.
We're on the side of the pavement on our way to school. Teens flank us on either side, so it's a bit crowded. I honestly can't wait for Ellis to finally get his junior driver's license so he can pick me up and we'll drive to school every morning.
The mist hangs low over the earth, wispy and dry, almost like it's watching; the way it clings to our ankles like it has some hidden agenda... Or like the earth itself is smoking a vape or something. The wind is chilly, yet surprisingly still for an autumn morning.
"It's just a party, dude. Relax."
He widens his already small eyelids and stares at me like I might as well have told him the Earth is just a big rock. His curtain bangs have fallen in front of his dark eyes—honestly, it's a wonder how he sees anything at all.
"It's a fucking rave in the middle of nowhere while there's a literal serial killer on the loose."
I take a moment to notice the bags under his eyes. For whatever reason, he always seems on edge these days.
"First of all, not a rave. Not sure if I'm actually going or not," I cut him off.
"Second, we don't even know if it's an actual serial killer or whatever."
We turn the familiar corner and come to a stop, staring at the school building. Ashford High is beginning to look a bit rundown—it hasn't been refurbished in a while.
Trust the US government to forget a small West Virginian town… or whatever Mayor Whitaker is doing with the funds we do receive.
"Oh, so the killings are just, like what, a bear attack? Do you actually believe that?"
I scratch my head, taking a moment to think. The police are starting to suspect a "wild animal attack." It kind of makes sense, honestly.
Two individuals.
A teenage boy and a middle-aged woman.
Both were in the woods at night.
Both were found dead.
"Possibly."
Ellis looks genuinely shocked by my answer.
"Since when were you this stupid? You don't even like parties," he grunts.
I stop walking and face him.
"And since when were you this paranoid?"
"It's just… creepy times, you know." He looks away, avoiding my eyes. "Sometimes I swear I feel like—" He stops short, jaw tightening. His eyes flick briefly to the treeline across the street, then back to me. "Never mind."
"What?" I arch a brow.
"It doesn't even matter, okay?" He exhales and shakes his head.
We arrive at the school's main hallway.
My eyes wander around before landing back on Ellis. He notices and looks confused—until comprehension dawns.
"Holy shit, dude," he says loudly. "It's because of that chick, right? Dean Carter's sister."
I grab his arm and frantically glance around. "Keep your voice down, will ya?"
He chuckles in that very annoying, very Ellis Callahan-ish way.
"Holy shit. So you were making out with her that day, and here I was wondering what happened to all your journalism bullshit about catching a killer."
I roll my eyes.
"You must think she's really special if your priorities are this screwed."
"Just shut up."
I don't elaborate, even as Ellis keeps barraging me with questions and taunts.
He wouldn't understand.
I can't get the image out of my head—the day I saw Elara Carter in the hallway. She looked so scared. So traumatized. I have this inexplicable urge to make sure she never feels that way again.
And then there's that annoying, curious part of me. The part that wants to know—needs to know—what happened to her. And if there's a chance she'll be at that party, then maybe going to a bonfire in the middle of nowhere isn't the worst idea.
Halfway through our conversation, a force slams into my shoulder, knocking me sideways into Ellis.
"Shit," he swears.
I turn and come face-to-face with gray eyes and dark hair.
She looks at me for a second, like she's about to say something, then frowns and trudges past.
I'm left staring after her, open-mouthed.
"Well, that was rude," I huff.
"I think that's the new chick everyone's been talking about," Ellis says as he follows me to my locker.
"I heard she's, like, always down—and got expelled from her old school in Boston for posting a blue film starring her and the janitor or something."
I take a moment to process that.
"Wow," I blink. "That is wild." I pause, then face him.
"Fact or rumor?"
He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, dude."
I smirk and slam my locker shut with a loud clunk. Ellis jumps like his soul briefly exits his body.
"Shit, dude, I didn't mean to scare you," I say, wide-eyed.
His breathing slowly returns to normal, like he just survived a mild panic attack.
Something's wrong with him. I can see it.
"Dude, you know you can tell me anything, right?" I grab his shoulder.
He studies me for a second, and for a brief moment I catch something in his eyes—something I can't name.
"Forget it, dude." He shrugs my hand off and looks away.
"As I said."
He walks off.
"Scary times."
***
As soon as I open the front door of my house, I see my dad sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the TV like he's waiting for something.
Or rather—someone.
Thankfully, the door doesn't squeak, so he doesn't notice me at first. I glance toward the staircase and try to sneak past him.
I make it to the fifth step before the tile creaks loudly.
Caught dead in my tracks.
My dad twists his head around—first surprise, then his thick brows draw together into a frown.
"Knox." His tone is warning.
I squeeze my face, then turn with a smile.
"Hey, Dad. Daddie-o. Oppa. My one and only father…" My voice trails off as I squint. "Figure—"
"Knox."
He shoots me a dead-serious glare. I clutch my left arm with my right.
He stands. My dad is a big guy—thick arms, long dark hair tied into a man bun. He was still in the military when he met my mom in South Korea during a vacation. Two years later, they married there, and a few years after that, they created a little bundle of joy.
Me.
But with the look he's giving me now, it's like he's considering returning that bundle back to the sender.
"Explain how you got those pictures you posted on your blog."
His eyes are sharp, demanding. Years of police work etched into every line.
"I found them on the internet," I say casually, looking away before he can catch the lie.
"Bullshit."
"I'm not shi—" I breathe. "I'm not lying to you, Dad."
His gaze drags over me from head to toe. I feel like I'm standing alone in a dark, empty courtroom, surrounded by nothing but cold eyes dissecting every memory I've ever had.
In short—being interrogated by my investigator dad.
I wish Mom would hurry back from her book signing.
He grabs an envelope from the table, pulls out a stack of papers, and begins pacing the living room.
"So you're saying someone just posted highly classified police documents on what—TikTok?"
I don't answer.
He rubs his face with both hands.
"I called your principal on Monday to ask you to take it down so this—" he gestures between his chest and me "—wouldn't happen. You were supposed to take it down. Jesus Christ, Knox."
He drags a hand down his forehead, then stops pacing.
"I'm not going to ask whether you stole this from my desk." He exhales, eyes locked on mine. "The sheriff called me into his office this morning. I swear to God, Knox, if I lose my job over this—"
He doesn't finish.
"Go to your room. You're grounded for the foreseeable future. Get out of here."
I swallow, nod, and scramble upstairs.
"Fucking kid," I hear him mutter as I shut my door.
I take a few deep breaths, filling my lungs, trying to shake the unease sitting in my chest.
Strangely, after a moment, I realize I'm not sad. Or angry. Or anything like that.
If anything… I'm relieved. In a way I can't quite explain.
Satisfied.
I check the time on my phone.
4:00 p.m.
Seven hours until the bonfire starts.
If I had any doubts about going, they vanish—hardening into concrete resolve.
'I'm going.' I text Ellis.