Forlot: Forgotten Forest - Book Eight {Completed}

Chapter Nineteen

David, Garcia, and Belinda were still debating if they would dismiss us and send us to our homes. Though, they were convinced that Valerie's death was on accident. They demanded that the kids stay in our cabins until a verdict was reached.

According to Melinda, she tried everything that she could to convince the other three counselors that a person murdered Valerie and even showed them proof. She had taken pictures of the footprints. But no matter what, David and Garcia dismissed her claim and said that it was obvious that Valerie caused her own death. In other words, they did not listen to a single word that she said.

Meanwhile, the girls and I were in our cabin and chatting like there was no tomorrow. After all, Valerie's death was a shock to all of us, and of course, some of us, myself included, thought that it was a murderer who killed her.

Unlike the other girls were sitting on their beds, I was standing up. I did not feel like sitting down. I was too worried. Too alerted.

"Who could have murdered Valerie?" one of the girls asked.

Another girl jumped and freaked out. "Murder?! But...the counselors..."

"They are just saying that it was an accident so that we will not go crazy and worry," one of the other girls explained. "My gut is telling me that she was murdered. But by who? And why?"

"Probably the same person who cut Josh's neck," I pointed out.

"That could be," Debra said. She surveyed the room. "Say...where is Sheila?"

"Wait. She is not here with us?" Debbie questioned.

"I do not see her."

"What if she went missing?!" the girl who panicked earlier exclaimed. "W-what if she was killed? What if she is being killed as we speak?!"

"We need to inform the counselors and have a search party for her," I suggested. "Before it is too late."

The girls agreed with me, and I went up to the front door, opened it...

...and was greeted with a gift.

There was a red bow on top of the gift, and I managed to spot a white tag hidden in the bow. I bent down and picked up the tag. It read in small, black letters:

"For you, Ari. My dearest and precious Ari."

The whole time, I was shivering. Not because I was cold. But because of the gift. My gift.

I picked up the bow, tossed it aside...

...and covered my mouth and tried to keep myself from...you know.

My "gift" was Sheila.

She was lying on the porch of our cabin, her arms and legs spread out. Her eyes were open wide, but she was not alive.

And what the bow had covered...was a hole. A giant hole where her stomach had once been. Blood - her blood - was surrounding her body.

I knew right then and there that she was stabbed. Stabbed to death.

Who could have done it?