Page 93 of Symphony for Lies

The horizon, painted red, pink, and violet, stretched endlessly before us.

Stacy sighed, leaning against the railing. “If the killer wanted us to see this, I should thank him.”

Layla smacked her arm.

“I was wrong. Maybe there was no message to begin with…”

Maybe I wasn’t as clever as I thought. Perhaps I had just imagined a connection that wasn’t there.

“No,” Stacy said firmly. “Don’t do that. Even if we didn’t find anything here, that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. Someone gave you a message for a reason. It means something.”

I nodded weakly.

My gaze drifted toward the school in the distance. Then back down at the water.“Let’s go. I don’t want us hanging around here any longer.”

They all nodded.

Maybe we were too early. Or maybe I just had no idea what I was looking for.

Back at my house, we sprawled across the living room floor, digging through the internet for anything related to the case.

Stacy found the clue we were looking for. A string of murders in a small town called Steel Valley. The details of the case were eerily similar to ours.The victims, their position, and the messages left behind.

“This can’t be a coincidence,” I muttered, scribbling down a name that caught my attention. A reporter, a survivor. Bella Carter.

“Are you going to contact her?” Tiana inquired.

Before I could answer, the front door swung open.

“Well, well! What a surprise!”My grandmother exclaimed, beaming.

Shit. We hurriedly shoved our notes out of sight, scrambling to hide the subject of our research. Layla, quick on her feet, grabbed a Monopoly box and held it up. “We thought a game night would be fun.”

My grandmother clapped her hands, delighted.“That sounds wonderful! And you’ll let me play, won’t you?”

Laughter erupted around the room, the atmosphere quickly becoming warm and comfortable as we sat down and started playing.

After a while, my phone vibrated.

Zane:

Come outside.

A familiar tension coiled in my stomach.

“I need to step out for a second.”

Four pairs of eyes snapped toward me.

“Why?” Layla narrowed her gaze.

“Zane’s here.”

Whistles and giggles abounded.

My grandmother grinned. “A date in the middle of the night! Zane knows the romantic tricks.”

“It’s not a date,” I muttered, my face burning as I grabbed my jacket and headed for the door.