Everyone is silent. Behind us, Gabby is being strapped to a stretcher. My friends shift back and forth, but I know they’re not surprised. We’ve done this before. Lili’s nostrils flare in and out. Her eyes burn with anger. I stare back. There’s no way I’ll crack first.

We remain in deadlock until the police cruiser roars up in a cloud of desert dust. Two cops, one stocky with a pencil-thin moustache and the other red-haired and freckled, get out of the car and walk toward us.

“Ladies?” The redhead removes a notepad from his pocket. His walkie-talkie beeps every few seconds. “What’s going on here?”

Lili whips around to face him, and for a moment, I think she’s actually going to spill everything. But then her bottom lip starts to tremble. The EMTs pass us, carrying Gabby to the ambulance. “Where are you taking her?” Lili calls after them.

“Oro Valley Hospital,” one of the EMTs answers.

“I-is she going to be okay?” Lili asks, her shaking voice swallowed by the wind. No one answers her. Lili catches them before they shut the back doors. “Can I ride with her? She’s my sister.”

The cop clears his throat. “You can’t go yet, miss. We need you to make a statement.”

Lili pauses, her toes pointed toward the ambulance, her body twisted back toward us. A swirl of emotions cross her face in a matter of seconds, and I can practically see her brain racing as she calculates her options. Finally she shrugs, a pure white flag of surrender. “Let them speak for me. It happened to all of us. We were all together.”

I exhale.

The cop nods and turns to Madeline, Charlotte, and Laurel and starts his questions. Just after Lili climbs into the ambulance and it turns away, I feel a buzzing in my pocket. I pull out my phone and see a new message on the screen from Lili.

IF THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY SISTER, IF SHE DOESN’T MAKE IT, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU.

Whatever, I think. And then I hit DELETE.

Chapter 19 - Creepy Vampires to the Left, Stalkers to the Right

Chapter 19
The Writing on the Wall

At first, Emma could only make out blurry shadows. She heard screams, but it was like they were coming from the end of a long tunnel. A hardwood floor pressed into her back. A musty, closed-up scent assaulted her nostrils. Something wet pooled on her face—she wondered vaguely if it was blood.

Soft fabric brushed up against her bare arm. Breath warmed her skin. “Hello?” Emma struggled to say. It took an enormous effort to form the words. “Hello?” she said again. “Who’s there?”