Fear Games

1. Rachel, Do You Remember Me?

Figured.

After making my pot of coffee, taking a shower, and eating some toast, I texted Rachel telling her it was okay to come over. It was astonishing to me that she chose to stay in this town. It wasn't like she was tied to it anymore. Not after her divorce. My only guess was that she didn't want to pry Emerald away from her friends.

It only took about fifteen minutes for Rachel to arrive at my door. She didn't even knock; not that she needed to. She was my best friend. In fact, she was one of my only friends. We were like family.

I guess after our trauma with Fear Games, we grew pretty close. Did all people that go through trauma experience that? I didn't think so but couldn't be sure.

While standing at the counter, I turned to look at her and realized she was still in her pajamas—pink sweats and a white top to be exact. Rachel didn't have a job and spent her time as a stay-at-home-mom. Now that she was divorced, she really needed a job but couldn't seem to find one because, well, she never had one.

"Hey," Rachel said as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You might want to be seated for this."

This couldn't be good. "What's so important that you couldn't tell me over the phone?" I asked as I took a seat at the round table I had in the middle of the kitchen. "It's the first day of school. Valley View will be pissed if I'm late."

"You're not going to be late," I said. "This will be quick. But you might have more to worry about than you and your kids' first day at private school after you hear what I have to say."

"Okay, spill it," I said. "Are you going to sit too?"

"I think I'd rather stand," Rachel said as she started to pace and ran her fingers through her messy blonde hair. She sighed. "I got a phone call from Josh last night."

I nearly choked on the sip of my coffee I had going down my throat. I looked up at her, surprised, and said, "What do you mean you got a call from Josh? As in Josh Mitchell?"

"I think so," Rachel said. "At least that's who he said he was. His voice...it...is sounded familiar. Like I'd heard it before. I'm sure it was him."

"Well, this is huge," I said, jumping out of the chair. "That means he's okay! After twenty years, we can stop worrying. Does he want to come home?"

"I...I don't think it's that simple," Rachel said softly.

"And why not?" I asked, not understanding. "He's alive! He can come home. He can be our friend."

"But remember, he killed Damien, which set off the bomb at St. Mary's," Rachel said. "The police have stopped looking for him, but that doesn't mean he'd be entirely in the clear even if he returned."

"We can help him with that," I said. This was such big news and I was so happy. My childhood best friend was alive. I wanted to be able to support him in whatever way I could.

"There's something else," Rachel said. "Something I'm not sure you're going to like."

"And what's that?" I asked.

Rachel sighed and pulled out a chair, taking a seat at the table. "He said something was coming for us. He didn't say who."

My heart skipped a beat, and for a second I thought she was kidding. When I realized she wasn't, I sat back at the table next to her. "What do you mean? What exactly did he say?"

"He said he called to warn me," Rachel said as she put her head between her hands. "That she was coming for us."

"She?" I said. "Who's she?"