The book's pages were crisp from the overuse. I could only imagine the countless times these pages were flipped and the countless people that had held this book in their hands. Victoria was one of them.

The librarian had given this to me as a way to understand where Victoria's head was at before she died. The book was one of her favorites and the last book she had checked out. And frankly, laying here on my bed, staring at the faded black ink I did not understand why she would read something so boring.

The book was titled The Power Within: a how-to about taking control of the situations you're put into and shifting the dominance in social relationships. It seemed like something an extremely passive or power hungry person would read, not Victoria.

However, it occurred to me that maybe she was reading this book to gain control over her tormentor. Only as her funeral proved, the book was no help.

Placing the book down on my nightstand, I locked eyes with a familiar figure out in my yard.

The backyard hardly counted as anything. It was small, the size of a bedroom, and overgrown with weeds and other gross things I had no business of messing with. We cleared it out a bit in the summer to create an area to hang out in but my grandmother hated the humidity and I was avoiding tanning any further. There was no use in working hard to maintain it.

If I had no business in being in the backyard, I had no idea why Helen did. I walked closer to the window and pulled the curtains to the edge to get a better look.

She was pacing, biting her nails and staring at the dirt like it was an emotional drama. She kept creeping closer to my back door and then backing away. I decided I wasn't going to wait for her to make a move. My trust for her was run thin since Hannah was no longer on my side and she was still friends with Helen.

Hopping down the steps, I paused at the back door and took a breath before throwing it open. I stood there in my PJ shorts, tank top, and a long cardigan with my hair up in the messy bun staring at the well dressed and collected girl in front of me. She had jumped back a few inches and had her pedicured fingers to her chest.

"Good afternoon, Helen. What brings you around here?" I glanced around the yard and then focused on her. "Is creeping around in peoples yards a new hobby of yours?"

"No, no. I just . . ." She gulped and rocked back on her feet. "You're really easy to talk to and I need to talk to someone about this or I'm going to explode!"

"Sounds like you have a lot to say. Why don't you come inside?"

After we were settled in the kitchen, sitting at the table with mugs of hot chocolate, Helen began to spill.

"The reason I came through the back was that I didn't want Hannah to see me." She shifted in her seat and looked around like Hannah might pop out of the kitchen drawers. "You know that suspicion we've always had about Hannah?"

I tilted my head. Lately, I've had many suspicions about Hannah. "Can you be more specific?"

"The one about her home life and her mother."

"Oh."

"Exactly. She had bruises on her arms and the night before when I walked her home her mother yelled at her first thing she got inside." She shook her head, staring at her beverage with glistening pity. "It would explain why she wrote all of those nasty words on our lockers."

"She did that to you guys too?" I thought action had been out if hatred for me but in reality, she was taking her anger out on all of us. The anger created by the abuse she endured from her mother.

"I'm afraid so. My locker said 'Fake' and Norah's said 'Liar'."

"Mine's read 'Tramp'," I said shamefully remembering the humiliating experience.

Helen rubbed her face frustratedly. "All things her mother said to her that night!"

I stirred my drink. "So it's confirmed. Her mom is abusive." True, I was not a big fan of Hannah at this point but it would be cruel to let the abuse go on right under my nose. Besides, maybe if her home life was worked out, she'd start to change for the better? That was a long shot but worth the try.

"What do we do? I know people always say we should tell someone like an adult but don't you think Hannah would have said something if she wanted to?" Helen inquired.

"Maybe she's scared."

She looked at me like I was crazy. "Scared? Hannah? Have you met her? There has to be more to it . . ."

I rolled my eyes. "Everyone gets scared. It's just some are better at hiding it."

"So we tell?"

"That would be the ethical thing to do."

She sighed and then bit her lip. "We can tell anonymously, right?"

"Of course. We can leave a letter in the principal's office."

Soon we were both scribbling down different versions of the letter. There were so many they covered the surface of the table. It took us a while to get it right, not wanting to give too much away about ourselves or sound insensitive. Nevertheless, we came up with the final draft.

Dear Principal Parks,

it has come to our attention that a student of your's, Hannah, is dealing with both physical and verbal abuse from her mother at home. We urge you to further investigate this.

"Short and simple. It should get through to him." Helen smiled and placed the note in her purse. "I'll take care of getting this to him. Thanks, Arielle. For everything."

She gave me a quick hug and then exited looking less stressed. I locked the door behind her and went back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I had a whole Saturday to myself and wanted to spend it reviewing what I knew about Victoria's case.

"Wait . . ." I stopped at my door. I left it closed but now it was open a peep, a strip of light shining through and casting a shadow. A shadow from my bedroom. The shadow of someone who wasn't me.

I backed up into the wall behind me as quietly as possible. My grandmother wasn't home and Helen just left meaning someone broke in. My best bet was to make a run for the front door and get help.

It became evident there was indeed someone in my room when the floorboards creaked underneath their steps. My hand flew to my mouth to muffle a gasp. My feet inched their way along the wall and towards the stairs. I had one foot on the step when I tripped. I landed one stair below me on my knees but that wasn't the problem. The problem was the fall caused an explosion of sound, causing the intruder's shadow to pause and then lunge toward me.

I stumbled down the steps, darting to the front door. My hands latched onto the objects around me and threw them behind in an attempt to block the stranger's path. Only, the person wasn't coming after me. The figure slipped out the backdoor.

My fleeing came to a stop. I changed directions and locked the door behind them. I found the biggest knife in the kitchen and brought it up to my room along with the house phone. I dialed 911 and kicked the door open. The person was gone as I had thought. I placed my desk chair against the knob of the door and locked my window. Then, I took a seat ready to press the call button on the phone.

But my eyes caught something that wasn't in my room before. A mint green typewriter sat on my desk, a paper with writing on it already inside.

I approached it wearily. Usually, thieves took things from houses. They never added to them.

The typed up document read,

Dearest Arielle,

this is my gift to you. Remember, you are embarking on a witch hunt that will lead to the fading of the light. Everyone dies. What better way to die than by discovering the truth? Record your findings. Type them up so that if an unfortunate event were to occur, someone else may carry on in your place.

Sincerely, Victoria

The typewriter belonged to Victoria. She kept it in the attic saying while its concept was cool it was a very inefficient way to write. Someone had stolen it or was given it. Perhaps by a friend of Tori's or her mother who had moved away only a few weeks ago leaving most Victoria's stuff in the dump or in donations. This was probably the same person who left the note at the pool when I was with Pete. They were playing with me and knew what I was up to.

And they broke into my house.

I felt like might have exploded.

I put the phone down and the knife to the side while taking a breath. This person was absolutely insane but had a point. I should document what I had found so far.

So with a knife resting beside me on the desk and 911 on speed dial, I typed up the case of Victoria Barely's murder.

__________________________

There was a new boy at school.

Everyone was shocked by his arrival. We never got new students considering this was a small town and people just flowed into this school when they were of age. There was only one other high school in town and it was a private school though it was clear this boy wasn't from around here.

He made a Hollywood entrance during lunch. Strutting through the double doors in his leather jacket, his hands in his pocket, and his gaze focused straight ahead. He was tan, tall, and muscular like he walked off the set of a teen drama. His buzz cut and developing beard screamed bad boy but the way he smiled at the lunch ladies screamed the all American boy next door.

"Now that is some serious eye candy," Shelby whispered with heart eyes. I was sitting with her at the table closest to the trash because Hannah made sure every other table was taken.

I shrugged while swatting some flies away from my soggy french fries. "I haven't seen him around here. You think he moved?"

"Why would anyone move here? Doesn't matter where he came from, this school is a downgrade." She shook her head. "Poor child."

"This town is the real problem. Didn't his family here about the recent murderer?!" I was having a hard time wrapping my head around why any family in their right mind would move to a place with a murderer lurking around.

"Maybe he's suicidal? I heard that's a rising epidemic in teenagers."

"With that charming smile and glowing brown eyes? Doubt it." The boy had all the charisma needed to become a successful politician and was only a dimple away from curing cancer.

"Oh, looks like Hot Stuff found a reason to live." Shelby wiggled her eyebrows and nudged her head in Norah's direction. The two were locking eyes, their chemistry game strong.

"Nope. I can't watch! I'll throw up." I covered my face with my hands.

"He walked over! They're talking!"

"Shelby! Quit watching them. It's creepy," I said with a laugh.

"I can't help it! Watching these stupid teens make fools out of themselves is so entertaining!" She kicked up her feet and opened the bag of chips.

Little did I know that the new boy and Norah were going to grow into something intense and grow into it fast.

Only a few days later, the two were dating and mirrored an engaged couple. They were walking down the halls, hands interlaced, flashing big cheesy smiles. They were together 24/7 and seemed like the relationship reached Edward and Bella level creepy. The rate of their relationship worried me. Why were they moving so fast? Normal, healthy relationships didn't progress with such speed. There was something fishy going on and having been Norah's friend for so long, I wanted to understand what that was.

When I finally got the opportunity to talk to Norah alone, I took it.

"Norah! Wait up!" I chased her down the hallway with my books in hand. She stopped and waited for me cheerfully.

"What's up, Arielle? Long time no see."

I chuckled to keep the mood light. "Have you seen anyone lately? Besides that new guy?"

"You mean Theo? He's my boyfriend." She blushed and continued down the hallway, almost skipping.

"I caught onto that. You guys are moving kinda fast, aren't you? Didn't you guys meet a few days ago?"

Her eyebrows wrinkled together. "True but we really hit it off. He's so sweet and understanding for his age. Nothing like the boys from around here."

"Ah and what is his age?"

She shrugged, wrinkling her nose. "Eighteen, I think. He said he has an early birthday."

"Norah, you're a smart and careful girl. Don't you find this thing weird? How much do you know about him exactly?" I bit my lip praying she wouldn't get mad at me. She did.

"What are you implying?" She stopped walking and turned to me, her face filled with frustration. "I may not know a lot about him but he knows a lot about me and that's what I like about him! He's a good listener!"

"I hear you. I'm just looking out for you-"

"No! No, that is not what you are doing, Mrs.Winters!" She poked her finger into my chest causing me to back up until I was almost against the wall. She kept coming closer. "You are jealous that I've found someone because time is ticking and you need to meet Hannah's deal or your secret is out! Well, guess what?!"

"Norah, stop!" I shouted in a weak attempt to get her to back off. My back slammed into the locker behind me.

"You aren't going to find someone to love you because all you do is take things! Just like how you took that poor kids-!"

"Norah, what's going on?" Theo appeared behind her with concern in his eyes. "Are you okay? What are you arguing about?"

The unrecognizable girl in front of me slowly transitioned back into the level-headed girl I once knew. "Nothing. It's over." She started to storm away but then stopped. She came close and violently whispered, her pointed nose grazing my ear. "Try Zac. Seems like the boy is still falling for your good girl charade."

I looked to my side and found Zac staring at me with his doe-like eyes a few feet away. He had one foot out in front of him like he was going to step in and help but ultimately decided not to.

Theo lingered, his eyes blazing with an emotion I couldn't place. A mix of confusion, curiosity, and a crippling need to know. His eyes slithered to meet mines and I could tell he meant trouble.

I turned my back on all of them. Norah's words were sharp and cut like a knife. She said all I did was take. Maybe she was right. Maybe there was something wrong with me.

It was already home time, so I didn't stop walking once I got out of the school building. The rain was pouring down hard and it soon felt like I had been for a swim with my clothes on. That didn't make me stop and seek shelter like most of the people on the street were. Norah's words kept me moving, kept me fleeing.

What exactly had I taken away from her that made her so spiteful? It was obvious whatever it was had been something long held. It had to have been bubbling up inside her for so long that it exploded out of her today. I hated myself for not knowing. I had hurt her, deeply hurt her in some way and I didn't even know how.

Nothing stopped me from moving. Except for Pete.

He was sitting on a bench facing the docks, still as a statue. It was clear he had been out in the rain way longer than I had. He was shivering, his lips turning purple and his skin paling in contrast. There were a dozen small shops for him to take cover in but he remained in the rain.

I changed directions and ran up to him. I lifted my jacket off of me and onto his shoulders. "Let's go inside. You'll get sick."

His head snapped in my direction and when he saw me his eyes sunk. He shook his head and pushed the jacket off. "You don't want to be next to me. Not if you knew what I did."

"What? You're not making any sense. Let's go."

"No," he cried. The word laced in so much pain it resembled the sound of a wounded animal. "I did something bad." His body shook with sobs as he hung his head.

I wasn't sure what to make of it all. Was he sick from the rain or had something actually happened? I hadn't seen him this miserable since the day he was holding Victoria's lifeless hand on the beach. Thinking back on the school day I didn't recall seeing him in his usual classes.

I kneeled down in front of his, trying to get him to look at me. I took his hands only to realize they were firmly gripping a silver object. "Pete, you aren't being very reasonable right now. What's in your hand?"

With another pained cry, he moved his hand, revealing the object in his palm. It was a necklace. It had a silver chain and a single pearl at the end. It resembled the one Hannah got for the girls and I. In fact, it was.

"It-it's Victoria's."

My breath hitched in my throat. "Did her mother give that to you?"

His lips trembled. "No. It wasn't on her body when . . . when they found her."

I took a shaky breath my own hands trembling as well. "Then how did you get this, Pete?"

He looked me dead in the eyes, his face glazed with guilt. "I think I did something bad."