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Footsteps sounded behind me on the stairs and I spotted Emely, who was the only one who had reappeared in this accommodation. She had turned up here an hour ago, ending my lonely weekend.

Bayla had simply disappeared on Friday and, strangely enough, had only managed to text me thirty minutes ago. The other girls had apparently all been home, too.

But what was I complaining about? At least my best friend seemed to be okay, and that was the most important thing. And besides, I’d had this awesome place all to myself.

Emely seemed absorbed in her phone, so I leaned back into the couch and tried to carry on working.

But a few seconds later, I heard someone’s voice on speakerphone.

Fuck, Emely, do you know what time it is?”

The voice was pleasantly deep, male. Probably a friend of Emely’s. Her boyfriend?

“Seven o’clock, like for me,” she laughed, and I heard her running through the kitchen. “Don’t be such a pussy and be happy that someone is even asking about you.”

“I don’t need anyone to ask about me,” the voice on the other side of the phone murmured. I immediately paid attention because the man's voice sounded like mine did whenever I responded to Bayla's calls. “I’m fine.”

I wondered if that was really the case, but dismissed the thought again and tried to concentrate on my laptop.

This phone call was none of my business, and Emely probably hadn’t noticed I was sitting here because the TV had been on since she got here, and I was very quiet and unobtrusive at the moment.

“But because it’s you and I promised you we’d give updates once a month,” the guy continued. “Wait a minute.” He laughed in disbelief, and I’d have to be lying if I said his laugh was unattractive. “Do I hear Oliver Bexley in the background right now?” He laughed again, this time gleefully. “Are you still stalking your middle school crush?”

I wheeled around to Emely in astonishment. “No way!”

Emely wheeled around as well, spotting me with a startled look.

“Who’s that?” the man asked.

Emely immediately reached for it and pressed the display. Then she took a deep breath and started walking around the kitchen with her cell phone to her ear, stacking bowls from the sink.

“Humans,” she sighed. “The campus is full of humans.”

I didn’t know what should concern me more. That Emely did have a crush on the weatherman, or that she obviously had issues with her fellow human beings.

“Yeah, I’ll have to get used to it,” she continued, confirming to me that she no longer had her caller on speakerphone. “But why I’m actually calling...” She sighed again. “Julian and Nash are acting like children. Nash isn’t doing anything at all to prepare for his future role, and Julian doesn’t want to come to us.” Her voice seemed stressed. “Yes, the usual. And on top of that, they seem to hate each other now, even though there are enough other problematic people running around here.”

I stifled a grin. This girl was strange, but right now, she seemed to me as if this conversation was doing her good. At least, this was the first time I didn’t see her looking hostile.

Blairville Daily with Breaking News!”

I looked back at the giant TV, and suddenly, the lively news presenter with a fake face – Oliver’s father – was on screen.

“We apologize for the brief interruption in the weather forecast, however, a tragic accident occurred – according to experts – last night, on the borders of Fogs Forest. Two hours ago, a pair of walkers found a body. The victim is a young woman, but her identity is unrecognizable as her face is torn open.”

Shock spread through my body, making me lower my laptop. In the corner of my eye, I saw Emely step closer.

“Harriet on the scene, with the details.”

The man disappeared and a woman with a perm emerged, behind her a dense forest of fog, police officers and more reporters frantically rushing through the camera footage.

“The whole police department is here, and it’s hard to get to the scene, but Detective Bardot is willing to give an interview.”

A stressed-looking man in a police uniform with a gray hairline appeared on the screen. Written in the corner of the screen was Head Detective Graham Bardot.

Wait a minute. Wasn’t this Julian also called Bardot?

“Detective,” the woman began, holding the microphone in front of him. “Are there any bite marks? Is it possibly an animal attack?”

The policeman’s jaw began to work. “No, not an animal attack.”

“Is it a murder?”

The policeman hesitated. “Probably. However, we’re waiting for the lab results from DLSC.”

“Graham, we need you for a second...” another cop called out, and immediately they switched back to the studio.

“This is frightening news for residents of this city, but we ask that you remain calm,” the newsreader said with a dismayed expression.

“The question of whether the young woman is one of the many people missing is still unclear. However, we are now officially warning people not to enter the woods.”

“Kieran...” Emely whispered barely audibly into her phone next to me. The look on her face was the epitome of shock. “I have to go.”

And with those words, Emely stormed out of the house.

I was still sitting on the couch, paralyzed, even when the newsreader continued and switched back to the scene where the body was found.

Her face was torn open.

Nasty goose bumps crawled down the back of my neck.

Who would do something so disgusting?

My thoughts slid back to my time in Sacramento, to all the things I’d witnessed there.

How could I have thought I had escaped this destructive side of humanity?

I opened the news page of the Blairville Daily, where old missing person cases were already listed, but this was the first murder.

I discovered an article about Fogs Forest and the...DeLoughreys.

My chest began to throb violently, and the goosebumps intensified.

















Mayor’s Office

“The woman’s neck is torn open,” the police chief sighed with a regretful expression. “Her body is drained of blood.” He took a deep breath before stepping closer to the mayor’s desk and lowering his voice. “And the location on the border of the Copelands forests is no coincidence either.” His jaw worked, making it look painful. “I think someone’s trying to send a message.”

The mayor sat tensely in her chair, staring at the man in front of her with a blank stare.

Are sens