Josh slides to a stop right behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder as we take in the gruesome sight before us. That feeling of wrongness floods my body at his touch. I gently shrug him off by stepping further into the tent. Something about him has always unnerved me. The way he toys with both Teagan and Lexi irritates me to no end. But I need his help, so I swallow my discomfort.
The woman is another guest, but I don’t remember her name. She’s wearing a gorgeous gossamer orange dress, and her neck has clearly been broken.
“He did this,” I tell Josh. “That Ghillieman you saw.”
We head back outside as I explain everything I know. Minus telling him about the letter. I want to trust Josh, but the letter said there would be people out there trying to kill me. Another one of Pierce’s mind games, no doubt. I can’t risk my daughter’s life by trusting the wrong person.
“We need to get out of here then.” Josh’s voice hitches with panic as he scans the forest around us. “And we have to find the others.”
I nod, wishing I could share the fact that I need to find my daughter as well. I just can’t risk it, I can’t.
“Let’s gather whatever supplies we can find and get out of here,” I tell him. “We need to get back to Windermere before the sun goes down, so let’s hurry it up. And stay alert, the Ghillieman moves like a ghost in this place.”
Josh grabs the metal bucket and then heads toward the tent with the woman in orange. “I’ll take this side, you start at your tent. We’ll meet in the middle.”
There are six single-person tents in the clearing, so it shouldn’t take us long. I give him a thumbs up before we both disappear into our respective tents. My tent doesn’t have much I can use, but I roll the thin black blanket and toss it into the bag where I found my spare clothing before moving on to the next tent.
The tent next to mine smells heavily of a floral perfume. The aroma lingers in the air, almost as if it were just used by whoever was placed in here. The blankets are rumpled at the end of the cot. When I shift them around, I find a golden compact hiding under the pillow. It’s about the size of my palm, with the letters REG engraved on top.
I wonder who was staying here. I should have looked in all the tents the moment I left mine. Seeing the Ghillieman was so unexpected that I didn’t even think to check.
What if my daughter is in one of these tents?
I shake the thought away. I can’t let the fear of losing her before I’ve found her again overwhelm me. I will find her. There is absolutely no other alternative.
There’s a small clasp on the side of the compact. Lifting it, I open it carefully, the hinges letting out a soft squeak as I pry it open. Inside, I find a folded-up note and a black-and-white photo of a young boy glued to the circular wall of the compact. He’s probably only three or four, and he’s smiling from ear to ear, wearing overalls with a Christmas tree as the backdrop behind him.
I tear my eyes from the photo and unfold the note.
Rebecca,
Do this one last thing for me, and I promise he’ll be all yours again.
— A. M. Pierce
Rebecca must be the person who was in this tent, though I don’t remember meeting anyone by that name at dinner. I wonder what she thought of the note when she woke up. Is Pierce holding her child hostage, too? It seems that I’m not the only pawn in Pierce’s games. If Rebecca got a letter just like I did, does that mean Josh might have gotten one too?
“Umm, Capri?” Josh calls out. “You need to see this.”
I stuff the compact into my pocket where my own letter hides and hurry out of the tent.
Josh is waiting at the opening to the tent next to me, his face showing an alarmed expression. He doesn’t say anything when I approach him. Instead, he points into the tent.
“What is it?” I ask, my voice quivering in fear. Fear for what I might find once I find the courage to look.
“Just look.” He motions toward the opening with his hand, his eyes wide with an emotion I can’t quite place.
My eyes reluctantly leave him as I slowly step into the tent. My entire body is tense with anxiety at what might be waiting for me on the other side.
Oh.
The inside of the tent doesn’t look anything like the others. The others have had nothing but a dingy cot with paper-thin bedding waiting behind the zippered flaps.
This tent looks like it was put together with love.
The cot in this tent is awash in pastel pink and turquoise bedding. There’s a thick taupe rug with white daisies plastered all over it on thefloor. A pair of hot pink Converse is strewn haphazardly onto it, almost as if someone tossed them off before jumping into bed for the night.
It’s the perfect setup for a ten-year-old girl.
