For a few seconds, neither of us moved. The shattered glass glittered across the kitchen floor while rain blew through the broken window. The muddy shovel lay there like a message someone had carefully delivered. Attached to it was the silver bracelet with the tiny moon charm. Helen's bracelet. The same bracelet the sheriff had shown me in the photograph from the woods. The same bracelet that was supposed to be evidence.
My eyes slowly moved toward Helen.
She looked pale.
Not surprised.
Not confused.
Just pale.
Like seeing the bracelet again had pulled her back into a memory she wanted buried.
"Helen," I whispered.
She didn't answer.
"Helen, tell me what's going on."
Her eyes stayed fixed on the bracelet.
Then she shook her head.
"I can't."
The answer hit harder than I expected.
Outside, lightning split the sky for a second, illuminating the room in white light. In that brief flash, I thought I saw movement near the tree line behind my house. A figure standing in the darkness.
Watching.
Waiting.
Then the darkness swallowed him again.
I carefully stepped toward the shovel. Every instinct in my body told me not to touch it, but curiosity was stronger than fear. It always was. Mud covered the metal blade. Fresh mud. Not the kind that had been sitting there for days. The kind that had been dug up recently.
Something was buried.
Or something had been buried.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
Another message.
Dig where the oak tree stands.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message arrived.
Ask her what she buried.
My heart pounded so hard I could hear it.
I looked at Helen.
She was already staring at my phone.
"Was it you?" I asked quietly.
"What?"
"The messages."
"No."
"Then who is sending them?"
She didn't answer.
That silence felt worse than any lie.
I looked back toward the broken window. The rain had become heavier now, pounding against the roof like thousands of tiny footsteps. Somewhere in the distance, a siren echoed through Centralia before disappearing again.
"I need the truth," I said.
Helen slowly sat down on the edge of the couch. She looked exhausted, like carrying the secret was finally becoming heavier than keeping it.
"After the party," she said softly, "I met someone in the woods."
"The boy outside?"
She nodded.
"We've known each other for years."
My stomach tightened.
"You never told me."
"I couldn't."
"Why?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Because if I told anyone, everything would've fallen apart."
The room became silent again.
I wanted answers.
I wanted this nightmare to make sense.
Instead, every answer only created more questions.
Then suddenly
A loud bang came from upstairs.
Both of us froze.
Another bang.
This time louder.
Like something heavy hitting the floor.
The sound came from my bedroom.
Neither of us had been upstairs.
Slowly, I looked toward the staircase.
Helen stood up immediately.
Fear finally appeared in her eyes.
Real fear.
Then came a third sound.
A slow creak.
A footstep.
Someone was walking around upstairs.
And whoever it was
Was definitely not supposed to be there. 🌧️