The Case of the Missing Little Sister

Chapter Eight

Oh, boy...

Writing this is quite a challenge but I think I'm excited too, to finish this novel!

Thanks for all the support you all give!

<4

^.^

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"Where is it?" Ethan asks hurriedly.

"Relax, will you? There aren't going to be snipers or zombies attacking us. So just, chill." I say, making no sense. At. All.

I pull over and get out. Ethan jumps off and trips and lands on his face. Hey! He deserved it!

Then he follows me running his hands over his face making sure there aren't any cuts, "Stop it, barbie doll. There's nothing wrong with your face!" I state.

"Who woke up on the wrong side of the bed... again?" he asks, with an attitude, a smile playing on his face. What is he planning?

He runs past me, towards a tall, evergreen tree and sits on this small swing, which is dangling from the tree's branch. Oh, these good old memories.

He starts to move it, and it makes a weird noise. It's rusted. Of course.

"So, what's so special about this, one tree?!" he asks.

"It's the place where Olivia and I, used to come after school and hang out here and talk about what happened. She usually used to ask me things which she didn't tell anyone. And it was usually something bad. And that's why the code Olivia has given that Mills' girl as a password, meant this tree. Where we both talked about her 'sorrows' and all of that." I explain.

"So does that mean, something is here, hidden!?" he asks, suddenly surprised.

"Patience, grasshopper." I say and fold my arms.

He immediately gets up looking around, and I too.

"It's not here!" he calls out.

"Not here either," I call back from the bush, I'm examining.

"Nah," he calls out.

"Nah," I reply.

"No,"

"Nah,"

"No luck, Emily!" He says after twenty minutes of thorough search.'He huffs and puffs and begins to swing again.

I just stand there as the devil-me and angel-me are fighting, "There has to be something!" Angel-me, inside my brain says.

"No! You checked everywhere! This is all Olivia's fault..." The devil-me argues.

"Remember, Emily, even in darkness, look for the light," Angel-me's words' light up in my mind.

Look for the light.

Keep on looking, Emily, keep on!

"I give up!"

I yell and sit down on the grass.

"There's no light here!" I scold the possible angel-me.

But the same words echo in my mind, 'Look for the light.'

I look at Ethan swinging happily, carefree, he is.

When the swing goes up, I notice something. Something under the swing's seat. Yes!

When Ethan comes down, I quickly, not even willing to tell him to stop, I just turn the seat around and Ethan falls off. I look at a sheet of paper, wrapped in plastic and taped to the bottom of the seat.