My fingers close around the third. “Anthony Hoggins,” I whisper. “Also fifteen.”
“There’s a report inside,” Gabriel says in a strained voice.
I reach back into the envelope. It’s a struggle to keep my hands steady as I unfold the single typed page and start reading out loud.
CONFIDENTIAL INVESTIGATION SUMMARY
Mr. Sutton, following your request, I conducted an investigation into Saltspray Cove Youth Camp.
During this process, I identified three additional cases involving minors who attended the camp and were subsequently reported missing after leaving the premises without authorization:
- Eliza Bennett, age fourteen, reported missing two years ago
- Marisa Lane, age fifteen, reported missing five years ago
- Anthony Hoggins, age fifteen, reported missing seven years ago
In each case, the minor was confirmed to have been enrolled at Saltspray Cove Youth Camp prior to their disappearance. According to available records, all three youths left the camp grounds voluntarily or without staff knowledge and were later reported missing by the camp’s counselors or other associated parties.
None of the three were found. Law enforcement ultimately declared all deceased based on investigative findings, though no remains were located.
At this time, I have uncovered no direct evidence implicating the camp in any wrongdoing.
I will attempt to identify and contact individuals who may have known the missing children and will update you as soon as possible.
I lower the page with tears in my eyes.
“The police said they were dead,” Scarlett whispers, blinking back tears as well.
“They declared them dead,” Gabriel corrects. “That’s not the same thing.”
I look down at the photos again. At their faces, all non-smiling at the camera. Eliza has big brown eyes that match her skin, Anthony’s lips are parted and I detect a missing tooth, and Marisa has a prominent widow’s peak and a tiny nose.
I cover my mouth with both hands as fear spreads through my body like frostbite, starting in my fingertips and working up my arms to my heart.
My fingers hover over Eliza’s face.
“She’s the one,” I say quietly. “Saul said she had a tragic end.” I look up at Gabriel. “What does that mean?”
He exhales slowly. “There was another report after this, but I left it at home. It was mostly focused on her. After she disappeared, her clothes were found near a landfill.” He hesitates. “There was blood on them.”
Scarlett makes a strangled sound beside me, but I barely register it as the wordbloodechoes in my mind, growing louder with each heartbeat.
Gabriel continues carefully. “All of the missing children were eventually declared dead, even though no remains were ever found. But her case was different. The amount of blood they found made investigators believe she may have been killed.”
I feel suddenly weak, so it’s a good thing I’m sitting.
I force myself to look down again at the children’s faces. They look like they want to say something if only they were not frozen in time.
I pick up Eliza’s photo and stare at it. I wish I had the power to reach into the photo, to bring her to life, to hear the sound of her voice as she tells us what happened to her, to the others.
“Whoever killed her could have done it again.” My pulse pounds in my ears.
“Judy,” Gabriel cuts in gently.
I ignore him. “They could have taken Sadie after she left the camp. If they knew where to look. If they watched the camp. If they?—”
“They got him. He didn’t touch Sadie,” Gabriel says quickly.
