Her Best Friend's Lie by Laura Wolfe

Author:Laura Wolfe [Wolfe, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781800190085
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2021-03-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

A gust of wind chilled my skin, and the ground felt unsteady beneath me. I couldn’t remove my eyes from the yellow tape as it fluttered in the wind.

Charlotte placed her hands on her hips as her mouth gaped open. “This must be where the counselor died.”

“Oh my God.” Kaitlyn covered her mouth. “She died here. In this cabin.”

Jenna tilted her head toward the sky. “Just when I thought our weekend couldn’t get anymore terrifying.”

“If only the police were here now.” My eyes searched the perimeter for any sign of movement. I hoped a cruiser with flashing lights would suddenly pull into the clearing. But only shadows stretched between the trees.

“That would be convenient. It looks like the police are long gone,” Jenna said.

Charlotte hugged her arms around herself. “I don’t feel good about this. We shouldn’t be here. Can we please go back? I really can’t handle anything else today.” She motioned toward the cabins as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Plus, my feet are killing me.”

“Charlotte’s right.” Jenna nodded toward the trail. “Let’s head back. We shouldn’t be messing around with a police investigation. Even an old one.”

Kaitlyn tipped her head down and made the sign of the cross on her chest. “Lord, help us. This is too much.”

I fought the urge to step across the police tape and investigate the cabin. Instead, I listened to my friends, hearing the anguish in their voices. We needed to head back to the rental and figure out a new plan for escaping to civilization. Besides, we’d already gotten some vigilante justice for the counselor if Travis had been the one who killed her.

Kaitlyn comforted Charlotte, who got her tears under control and hiked next to us. We retraced the path we’d taken earlier, passing the cabins, the mess hall, and more cabins. We cut through the zip-line area, archery field, and climbing wall until we were back on the narrow path through the woods. Hiking onward, I ducked and dodged through the gnarled branches that scraped against my arms and threatened to poke my eyeballs.

Jenna’s ankle was sturdier with the bandage, and we only stopped once to rest. It was 5 p.m. by the time our decrepit cabin appeared through the trees on the hillside. Charlotte’s red minivan drew my eye and I had to look away, knowing it doubled as Sam’s coffin.

We collapsed into our usual chairs on the deck. My body was a shell of itself—the outside scraped and blistered, while the inside ached with sorrow and defeat. I balanced my elbows on the table, resting the weight of my pulsing head in my hands. I’d barely slept in two days. The only food and drink I’d consumed today was half of a muffin, a power bar, and some bad coffee. My throat was dry. I looked at my empty water bottle. Refilling it would mean entering the kitchen where I’d have to face Travis’s body slumped against the wall in a bloody heap. I’d rather let myself be thirsty.

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