Page 24 of Kiss Slay Replay

There are small rocks and granules of dirt embedded into my bleeding palm, and my hip hurts so badly it’s got me nauseous. “I’m fine.”

The faint creak of hinges. A low moan.

“Hello?” Danny calls. We hold our breath as we wait for a response. We don’t get one.

I watch his eyes dart back and forth, contemplating where to go next. Back to the cabins where there’s clearly someone in distress or ahead to the reception hall where everyone else is currently gathered. Where there’s possibly a phone that we could use to call for help.

I slip off my shoes and throw them onto the lawn. I fucking hate heels.

“I’m going to see what’s going on back there,” he says, pointing to the cabins. “You run over to the reception hall and let them know what’s happening.”

“We don’t know what’s happening. And splitting up is a textbook bad idea.”

“Okay, okay.” He grabs my hand again and leads me to the cabins. We get to the first one—the one with the blood smear at the back. Danny puts his arm out, blocking me from stepping onto the porch. He angles himself in front of me, but I lean around him so I can see.

The cabin door is shut, but there’s dark hair caught in the frame, a shallow pool of blood forming at the foot—the opposite of a welcome mat.

I slap a hand over my mouth as I hyperventilate—taste the blood and dirt from my fall, the salt from my tears, the sour tang of utter terror.

There’s movement behind the door. Rustling. The knob rattles, slowly starts to twist.

“Danny,” I whisper.

He shifts so I’m completely behind him, attempting to shield me from whatever it is we’re about to face. But I catch a glimpse of something. White netting. Stark against the dark hair. A birdcage veil.

I push Danny aside, tripping over the top step on my way to her. To Steph.

I can’t get the door open because her body is there.

“Steph!”

She’s there on the floor of the cabin, on her side, her hair covering her face. She changed out of her lavender dress into a butter yellow jumpsuit that is now covered in blood. She lies completely still in the dark.

I lose a moment suspended in disbelief at what I’m seeing. A splinter of time too jagged to linger inside, no matter how badly I want to.

She’s bleeding. She’s right there in front of me, bleeding. Hurt.

“Steph, it’s me. It’s Willa. Stephanie? Say something.”

She groans.

Danny is over my shoulder. “Is she okay? Tell me she’s okay. Willa?”

“Steph, can you move back? I need to get in. I need to get inside to help you.”

She stirs, rolling forward, hands reaching as she slams the door closed again.

I look back at Danny. I barely recognize him—his face has completely drained of color. “Hold on. Willa. What if he’s in there? Whoever did this.”

“I don’t care,” I say, reaching for the knob.

I’m careful with the door, opening it gradually to make sure I don’t hit her with it. She’s still close to the threshold, but there’s enough space that I can slip through, step over her. The floor is slick with blood, and I almost fall again.

I steady myself, slowly drop down to my knees and push Steph’s hair out of her face.

I can’t scream loud enough.

Her eyes are gone.