When senior students at Lincoln High receive the same deadly text message, it falls upon Helena Gallagher and an unlikely companion to solve the mystery and catch the killer.
••••
High school student, Helena Gallagher is a murder fanatic. A devoted...
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Elliot and I trudge through the muddy snow, holding onto each another as a means of support. I slip multiple times, the grip on my boots not cut out for a trek in the woods.
"It's not far," he ensures, holding onto my hand.
It's been two days since Shaun was arrested. Jasmine is MIA. Mom is a wreck and I'm...numb. Chloe and Jason are the only reason we're still functioning as human beings. Elliot too. As well as seeing to our physical needs, they provide sympathy, understanding and compassion.
"It's just up here, I think."
He thinks.
I fill my lungs with air and press on, unable to see much beyond the thick haze. Rockaby forest isn't the type of place you go camping. It isn't scenic in the slightest. It's dark, damp and depressing.
Also, scary as hell.
"You okay back there?" he asks, tripping over a hazardous rock.
I lunge forward, catching him before he can fall to the floor. "I'm good. You?"
"Just falling for you, yet again."
I shove on his arm, fighting the urge to smile.
"Come on," he encourages. "I can see it."
We approach an opening, the space housing one tree. Oak, I think.
"This is it," he states, dropping his rucksack to the ground.
I aim my torch at where it lands, dead leaves and tree roots the only things staring back at me.
"You dragged your Dad's body all the way up here by yourself?" I ask, finding the notion unfathomable.
He nods. "It took me a lot longer than ten minutes."
Oh.
He produces two shovels; one for me, one for him.
"You ready?"
Most people go to a restaurant for their first date. Or at least the cinema. But not us. Oh no. Elliot and I thought it best we dig up the grave of where we hope his Dad is. That way, we'll know once and for all if Shaun was lying or not.
"Ready as I'll ever be."
I push the blade into the damp soil, the surrounding area cracking as a result. It's tougher than I thought. A strenuous task. For the most part, Elliot does majority of the digging, my half assed attempts hardly up to scratch. It takes us best part of fifteen minutes to make a dent and the whole time, I keep thinking of Celia. Her reaction to us coming here had been far from happy but Elliot needs to know. He's barely slept, barely ate and is constantly looking over his shoulder. Even the slightest possibility of his Father being alive is enough to drive him mad.
"Families, huh?" I joke, wiping the sweat from my brow.
He's on his knees but manages to look up and smile. "You can say that again."
