And then I see it.
Tucked under the moldy blanket is a note.
My heart slams hard against my chest. Part of me wants to run back down the stairs and forget everything that happened tonight. Part of me has to know what the note says.
Slowly, I reach between the bars and pick it up. I take a deep breath and read.
Hi Sarah Slade!
Is that the name you’re going by these days? Would be a shame if people found out who you really are….
Wouldn’t it?
BREAKING NEWS: POLICE REVEAL IDENTITY OF ONE OF THE BODIES FOUND AT BLACK WOOD
July 4
ABC News, Melbourne
Victorian police have released the identity of the second body discovered at Black Wood House.
The woman has been identified as 25-year-old Amanda Vale. Vale, an administrative assistant from Port Murphy, South Australia, went missing seven months ago.
It’s understood she moved from her hometown to the infamous Black Wood House in September of last year. It’s believed she lived there for only a few weeks. Surprisingly little is known about her time in Beacon, southeast of Melbourne.
Her devastated mother, Linda Vale, wasn’t even aware her daughter had lived at Black Wood.
“I knew she was living in Victoria, but she moved a lot and wasn’t good about keeping in touch. It wasn’t unusual to go weeks, even months, without hearing from her. But when I didn’t hear from her at Christmas, I went to the police.”
Amanda Vale had been declared missing for seven months before the shocking discovery of her body at Black Wood House.
The body, too decomposed to immediately gauge its height, weight, or race, was taken to the Victorian coroner’s office. The identification was made this morning, but police are still tight-lipped about the cause of death.
The identity of the first body found at Black Wood is still unknown.
Chapter 26
Someone is saying my name. My real name. “Lizzy. Lizzy, what’s wrong?”
I try to open my eyes, but it’s surprisingly difficult. The person shakes my shoulder, their voice rising with anxiety. “Lizzy, wake up.”
My eyes flutter open. Joe peers down at me, eyes wide with concern. He’s wearing his bartender uniform—black jeans, crisp white T-shirt. I sit up in bed, groggy, head aching. I’ve no idea what time it is or why my husband is up here in my bedroom when he hasn’t stepped foot in here for…I shake my head. I can’t remember how long we’ve been in this house. Can’t even remember what day it is.
“What time is it?” I ask, eyes blurry, tongue thick in my mouth. What the hell is wrong with me?
“It’s midday,” he says uneasily, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”
Oh, shit. My phone’s buried under my pillow. I grab for it and click it on. Three missed calls from Adria, three from Emily. Four text messages also from Emily:
You coming in to work today?
Is everything okay?
Please call me when you get this.
Lovie??
Shit, shit, shit.
