Andy wanted a full staff meeting. It turns out that’s no simple task.
So here we are, hours later, finally sitting outside the cabins at ten-thirty at night. The children are tucked up in bed and snoring.
We’re in a circle. I’d like to think that’s because we all want to be involved, but really, it has more to do with the fact that we have eyes in every direction around camp this way.
Let’s say hello to pessimistic Esme.
As the meeting starts, I plan how to catch Andy after and ask about the camp’s relationship with town.
Andy speaks in a low voice so we can hear but not be overheard.
“What are the cops doing?” Cora asks as he finishes explaining that they didn’t find anyone in the woods.
“They’re going to look into some names I’ve given them.”
“Who are they?”
He dips his head. “I can’t say. Both worked as counselors before any of you started. Both left on unhappy terms.”
“Can you tell us what those terms were?” Jake asks. He and Kayla are sitting side by side, holding hands. She hasn’t told me that anything happened between them, but it sure looks on now.
Andy presses his mouth into a thin line before he looks at Jake. “I’m sorry, I can’t. But rest assured that the police will speak with both of them in person. For now, we’re going to make sure that groups are doubled up. CITs must be with their counselor when doing any activity with the campers. We’re cancelling our hike this week, unless the police have good news, so we’ll have kayak races, extra swimming time and cooking lessons instead.”
“Should we inform parents?” Mary asks.
“The police didn’t seem to think the campers are in danger and neither do I, but we have to take it seriously. We will inform parents if there is another sighting or any evidence that he’s been back. Security will be upped, no campers will be allowed to go into the cabins alone, and we’ll remain vigilant at all times. For now, we just need to carry on as we are and make their summer the best it can be.”
My stomach twists with unease.
“I’m glad the cops don’t think the campers are in danger,” Rebekah says.
“But are we?” Tia asks.
I hold my breath.
“I really don’t think so. There’s a big leap between wanting to frighten people and wanting to harm them. The two suspects never showed any signs of violence and were let go for a number of minor grievances,” Andy replies.
But let’s face it, it’s not the two former staff members who are doing this.
Rebekah curls her arms around her body and nods.
“Everyone stays in their cabins tonight. Does anyone have any other questions?” Andy asks. No one says a word. “Right, let’s all get some sleep.”
I stand and turn to Olly. “Are you okay?” he asks, brushing his knuckles along my jaw. His fingers leave a warm trail behind them.
Don’t faint!
“I’m all right. This is all a bit scary, though.”
“You’ll be fine, Esme. I’ll watch you go into your cabin.”
“Thanks. Night.”
He smiles. “Night.”
I link Rebekah’s arm with mine as we walk toward the girls’ cabins. “You okay?”
She looks straight ahead, nibbling her lip. “Yeah, I guess. I’ll see ya in the mornin’.”
“Yeah.”
“You doing this?” Kayla whispers to me as we walk on to our cabin.
I look back and locate Andy. What choice do I have? Everyone has volunteered me. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Esme?” Cora asks when I stop following her.
“Oh, I just need to speak to Andy real quick, then I’ll be right in.”
She nods and follows Kayla into our cabin.
“Esme, is there a problem?” Andy asks.
“I just wondered about the graffiti and the guy in the woods. Could it be someone from town? I know a lot of camps don’t have the warmest and fuzziest relationship with nearby towns.”
He frowns. “We’ve had a few small issues, but nothing too bad. I can’t see why a local would want to do this.”
“How small were the issues? Maybe a local thinks they’re major?”
“Yes, perhaps they might. I’ll mention it to the police,” Andy says.
Wow, he really isn’t going to tell me what these “issues” are.
“Are you going into town now?” I ask.
It’s a small town; there is no way the police station will still be open.
“No, I have a contact I can call,” Andy says.
“Good.”
He smiles and his thin lips disappear. “Great thinking, Esme. You’re smart.”
“Er, thanks,” I reply.
“Get some sleep. And don’t worry—I’ll sort this out.”
He turns and walks away. Don’t worry? Sounds like Andy really doesn’t know me at all. My nan, my mom and I are Olympic-level worriers.
I sneak into the cabin, tiptoe through the main room and climb up to my bunk. My body is heavy and aches. I sink into the mattress and sigh. Every part of me is tired.
“You all right?” Kayla whispers in the darkness.
I left our door wide open so we can see and hear the campers.
“I am, but I don’t think Rebekah is,” I say, keeping my voice quiet. “We should check on her first thing.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Kayla asks.
“I don’t know, but she seems really scared. During the meeting she looked like she wanted to hide, and she was chewing on her lip and staring when we walked back to the cabins. I know that she was bullied in school, and I’ve noticed that when someone disagrees with her, even nicely, she tends to go inside herself.”
“You notice everything, Esme.”
I turn onto my side and am confronted with something that steals my breath.
I stare, unblinking, until my eyes sting and water leaks from the corners.
No.
I suck in air as fear clutches my stomach in a vise-like grip.
Carved into the wall by my pillow are the letters LC.
They were not there before.
I freeze, staring at the letters while anxiety curls in my stomach.
Lillian Campbell.
I lick my dry lips and force my breath to slow down. In for five, out for five.
God no.
She has been in our room, in my bed. I want to jump out of the bunk, run away and never look back.
She was right here.
Nausea rolls my stomach.
Kayla is in bed. Do not freak out.
I reach out, my hand trembling as it gets closer to the wall. My index finger pokes into the rough scratches and loose shavings drop to the floor.
No.
Retracting my hand, I ball it into a fist.
My shoulders hunch.
What do I do now? Someone here besides me and Kayla knows what happened ten years ago. Maybe it’s Lillian, or maybe it’s someone else—someone she told or a witness we didn’t know existed.
Ten years. That’s a long time to carry anger.
“Esme?”
I clear my throat, but I’m unable to look away from Lillian’s initials. It takes everything I have to keep my cool. “Yes, I notice things. And you only notice when cute guys are around.”
“It’s a talent, I have a cute-guy radar. Night, babe,” Kayla says.
Her voice is barely audible over the shrill ringing in my ears.
“Night,” I whisper as my shaking finger curls around the C.
Why am I not telling Kayla about this?