My fingers shook as it gripped the creme handle of the dagger. I wiped my next palm on my nightgown. The beads of perspiration on my forehead cascaded down my face.
I paused in front of the casket room. My heartbeat threatened to blow my eardrums. The door creaked and crackled while it opened, alerting anyone inside.
He had to be in this room. He just had to be.
My eyes did a quick inventory of the isolated room. The two coffins—Brian and I had polished earlier—nestled in the middle of the room, still vacant.
No. No. Please, no.
I swallowed the panic, bursting its way out.
This was not happening.
Darn you, Brian!
I rushed to his room, grabbed one of his shirts, and dashed outside. To my dismay, night had already fallen. The moon was no longer a shiny grey ball, but a big red circle. It took its own sweet time rising to the peak of the sky. I had to find Brian before it did, or else we were both screwed.
