"Shoot her." A voice I know all too familiar booms. Shaking everything in its wake. "I said shoot her!" Pain sliced through my back.
"I can't!" I cry out, tears streaming down my face. My hands shake. My body becomes numb to the cold. "Please! I cant." I try to reason, but my voice breaks into sobs halfway though.
I lift my eyes from the ground after I hear the solider in front of me make a ticking sound from his mouth. He shakes his finger at me before he makes a signal to the four soldiers on the opposite side of the field. They bring out four human figures with bags over their heads, then force them to the knees. All four soldiers take out their guns and point the barrels at all of the figure's heads.
"You have five seconds." The soldiers click their guns. "One." I look up to him frantic. "Two." In the corner, I see the four figures squirm. "Three."
"Valerie. Val, look at me." The green eyes plead to me from the ground. Unshed tears in her eyes. "It's ok. It's ok." She nods her head, blinking away her tears.
On the other side of the field, the bags are ripped off of their heads. The four figures were Deacon, Jess, Ryan, and Anthony. They shake their heads and anxiously scan the scene before them. Their eyes dart to me than the girl on the floor and look of sympathy shoots from them. Deacon, however, looks at me with deep grief.
"Valerie. Just do it. It's ok. Please just do it for me. Ok?" She tries to smile through her tears, but it was clear she didn't want to die. She just didn't want to lose four members of what she considered her family.
"Four." The soldier booms out. I throw myself on the solider. Crying, begging, but he pushes me to the ground. I land right in front of her. Green to brown. "Five."
WATTPAD BOOKS EDITION
Griffin Tomlin is dead. And Clara's sister killed him . . .
Four months after the murder, the entire town of Shiloh is still in shock. For Clara Porterfield, the normal world has crumbled around her in a million chaotic pieces. Now Clara lives in a new reality, where her sister awaits trial for murder, her mother obsessively digs in a dead, frozen garden, and her father lives and breathes denial. At school, Clara is haunted by her classmates' morbid curiosity-and all of the unspoken questions they won't ask.
But none of them knows what she knows . . .
Now Clara's sister wants something from her-the one thing in all of this that Clara isn't ready to face: the truth about what really happened that night. Because this story didn't die with Griffin Tomlin. There's another story that needs to be told. And sometimes, the lies we're told are nowhere near as deadly as the lies we tell ourselves . . .