“It’s Rebekah!” I say her name again because Kayla is looking at me the way you look at people arguing in Walmart.
She blinks and shakes her head. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s her! Lillian. Rebekah is Lillian. They’re the same damn person. Catch up!”
Throwing her head back, Kayla laughs. “Oh, come on, Esme. Rebekah was with us when we were chased through the woods.”
This is it, time’s up. I can’t keep hiding things. “But she wasn’t there when I was stalked in the forest last night.”
“What?” Kayla steps closer, tilting her head.
“When I got separated from the others, someone was stalking me. I saw her. Well, it was dark and misty, but I saw someone dressed in black. Tall and slim. She was so close.”
“Esme, Rebekah was with us last night.” Kayla says it like I’m slow.
“No, she went to bed early, remember? And she has burns on her side and stomach….”
“Lots of people have burns. How do you explain the night of the photos? Rebekah was there that night.”
“Right.” I hold one finger up, cracking it. “There’s two of them; that’s how they’re able to do so much. She—Lillian—would need help. There is no way she could do this alone. I don’t know if Rebekah is Lillian or one of her cronies. Yet.”
Kayla frowns, her once sparkly blue eyes now full of doubt. But I see it in there too, a little flicker. She’s starting to believe me. Kayla is considering the possibility that we’ve been living with one of our stalkers for weeks.
“What did you see exactly?” she asks.
I don’t like her emphasis on exactly, and her tone is the one she uses when she thinks someone is an idiot.
“Mary asked me to go to her cabin and check on Phoebe. Rebekah and Tia’s door was open a little and I saw Rebekah putting on a T-shirt. There’s a burn all down her side and her stomach. Like all down it, not just, ‘Oh no, I spilled coffee on myself.’ It was bad.”
Kayla blows out a breath, her eyes darting to Rebekah’s cabin. “Does she look like Lillian?”
I shrug when she looks back at me. “Maybe. Her hair is darker, but so is mine now….”
“What color eyes did Lillian have?”
“I…Light-colored, maybe? Blue or green. It was dark that night.”
I remember the orange reflection in her eyes from the flames and the look of terror in them.
“That’s not good enough,” Kayla says. “You have to be sure about it! We can’t just accuse her of something like this. I mean, how many burn victims do you think there are? How could Rebekah do all this stalking anyway? The girl is petrified of confrontation.”
“Yeah, well, even introverts can be crazy…and what better way for an introvert to attack than to watch from afar and send creepy anonymous messages. Besides, she’s not working alone!”
Kayla shakes her head. “She would need pretty regular contact with whoever her partner is. I don’t think I’ve seen her use her cell once.”
“You and I used to text each other through entire classes and the teachers never knew a thing.”
“This is—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, get past that. We need to figure out a way to prove that Rebekah is Lillian before anything else happens. From this minute on, we don’t give her a second to breathe. We stay with her and watch her.”
“Esme, if what you’re saying is true, we need evidence.”
“I totally agree. That’s why I’m going to steal her phone.”
“What? You can’t. The burns might be a complete coincidence.”
“And all the weird ‘what’s your biggest secret’ crap that she was going on about when we first arrived? What was that about? She was trying to see if we’d lie.”
“Which we did,” Kayla replies. “We’ve lied a lot.”
“Sometimes the truth can do more damage.”
“Even if the truth is about an accident?”
I blink hard to stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Kayla, the fire and Lillian getting hurt was an accident, sure. Keeping quiet about it for ten years wasn’t.”
“I don’t need the abridged version, I was there,” she snips.
“Whatever. I need you to distract Rebekah.”
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Why can’t we just ask her about the burns?”
“How likely do you think she is to say, ‘Yes, Esme, I am the one creeping off into the woods.’ Come on,” I say, throwing my hands up. “Rebekah isn’t going to admit anything. We have to find out. Keep her busy.”
I start to turn away, but Kayla grabs my wrist.
“Wait. How?”
“I don’t know! Ask her to talk, tell her you’re homesick. She likes to share feelings…even if they’re made up.”
“All right. Be careful.”
I’ll be the one in the cabin; she’s the one who’s going to be with Rebekah. It’s not me who needs to be careful.
We part ways: she heads to the dock where Rebekah is dangling her feet into the lake, and I go inside Rebekah’s cabin.
The campers are in the multiuse cabin having a dodgeball tournament.
A dodgeball game doesn’t require every counselor and CIT, so we’ve split up. Half of us are supervising the campers and the rest are taking a break. That’s code for watching the forest. Kayla and I have been tagged in for first watch.
Andy is flitting between checking the campers and making sure there’s no further danger. He’s clutching his phone and the damn clipboard like he has a clue how to handle this situation. He hasn’t mentioned the cops again, so I guess he’s not telling them anything else besides what he’s already told them about the guy on camp property. Which is hardly likely to be up there on the cops’ list of urgent incidents.
“Esme,” Andy says, walking toward me as he makes another round, “where are you going?”
“Oh, Andy,” I say, pressing one hand to my throat and acting startled. “You scared me.”
He didn’t. After two weeks at camp, I no longer jump when he pops up like a ghost.
Think! Why are you going into a cabin that isn’t yours?
“I’m sorry for frightening you,” he says.
“That’s okay, I was just going to go check inside, you know?” I scratch my jaw. “That makes me paranoid, I get that, but we have kids here.”
“I think it’s prudent to exercise caution, well done. I can take on cabin checks.”
Seriously?
I run my hand through my hair. “Even the girls’ cabins? The girls might be more comfortable if it was a female going into their room.”
His pale eyes widen a fraction. I guess the thought of someone witnessing him looking through the girls’ cabin does not appeal to him.
“Ah, right. I didn’t think about that. Very well, I’ll take the boys’ cabins. Let me know if anything is amiss.”
I smile. “Will do.”
That was too easy.
Andy walks off, heading toward the boys’ cabins.
After taking one quick glance over my shoulder and seeing that Rebekah is occupied, I open her cabin door and slip inside. I’ve been in Rebekah and Tia’s room once, shortly after we arrived.
I press my lips together hard against the rolling in my stomach. Some people love snooping, but I hate it. It feels so wrong, and I always worry that I’ll find something nasty.
If I find something in here that I don’t want to see, how will I look Rebekah in the eye again?
I’d rather find evidence that she’s the creep in the woods. At least then this would be over.
I walk through the main room and go into Rebekah and Tia’s bedroom.
Their beds are made and there is nothing on the floor. Kayla and I are messy. I think I have at least three T-shirts on the chair.
Rebekah’s is the bottom bunk; I remember her mentioning Tia was above her.
I pick up her cream-colored pillow and stuff my hand inside the case. If I were hiding things, they would be in here or under the mattress. Not original, I’ve made my peace with that, but our options here are limited. The floorboards are fixed tight, probably thanks to Andy.
The pillowcase is empty, aside from the pillow, so I drop it back on the bed and move on. I grip the thin mattress and tilt it, leaning it against the wall.
Wooden slats are all that’s beneath.
Okay, Rebekah, where are your skeletons?
I drop the mattress and remake the bed. She has two drawers, but she shares the small dresser with Tia, so it’s unlikely she would keep anything in it.
Or it’s the perfect cover. Isn’t there something about hiding in plain sight?
What would she hide in there, though?
A voodoo doll of me and Kayla would be a dead giveaway.
I open the first drawer. There’s a photo of Rebekah with who must be her mom and dad. It’s framed in pink glass, so I don’t know why she wouldn’t display it.
Why hide your parents?
I put the photo back down and root through the rest of her stuff. Deodorant, headbands, toiletries, a charger—Kayla and I keep ours in the wall socket—a notebook, wire-bound with doodles on the front.
Her diary?
I open the notebook, ignoring the pang of guilt in my gut. The first page has her name drawn graffiti-style.
I turn to the second page. There’s a doodle of herself, I assume, and another little girl. Rebekah’s good at drawing, her sketches are so lifelike, every pencil stroke is precise. I wish I could draw like her.
Turning the page again, I almost drop the book. Fire. She has drawn fire. No forest, no campers running away, just fire. Jagged flames take up the whole page. I run my finger over the raised, angry ink.
This is something.
Why would she have drawn this?
I know she’s been burned. I have zero idea of burn victim statistics, but I’m willing to put everything I own on it being higher than one. Rebekah was burned; Lillian was burned. That doesn’t make them the same person. But it does mean they have something in common.
I think about the flames that night—how vicious they were. If Lillian was burned—and I am pretty sure at this point that she was—and Rebekah is Lillian, wouldn’t her burns be worse?
My stomach clenches as the memory flashes through my head over and over, like a horror flick on repeat.
As I start to turn the page, the cabin door creaks. Someone has opened it.
My heart leaps. I drop the notebook back into the drawer and push it shut.
“Rebekah?” Kayla calls from outside.
No!
Rebekah cannot find me in here.
I have no reason to be in here.
Rebekah calls back to Kayla from the doorway of the cabin.
Kayla replies with a question about going for a walk. I don’t hear Rebekah’s reply because the sound of her opening the door has my pulse racing.
I look around. The window in the bedroom is big enough for me to climb out of—it’s a fire escape route—but it’s too far away for me to make it there in time, and I certainly wouldn’t be able to do it quietly anyway.
Her footsteps thud closer.
I freeze.