The Missing Link (Book 1: Outcast) [CURRENTLY EDITING]

CHAPTER NINE: QUESTIONED

Exactly twenty minutes later we watched the paramedics put Sally on a gurney and fire up the sirens before driving away to Provident Hospital. She had been in and out of it, mumbling mostly incoherent things that didn't help the medics understand her health condition and caused a ton of speculating on everyone else's part.

I felt horrible about the fact that they thought she suffered some sort of mental disorder, because not only in the span of forty-eight hours had Sally Mason allegedly harmed herself with a knife in school grounds but she'd thrown herself off a balcony as well.

And here I was, knowing none of that was true.

I had seen him, Roy, the famous guy with blue eyes who had attacked Sally on the parking lot and now threw her off a second floor balcony. He existed. But even with my knowledge on the matter, when the patrol cars rolled in five minutes after the ambulance departed, I didn't feel capable enough to spill it all out.

Asking a bunch of drunk, shocked, and most likely stoned teenagers all at once if they knew something on Sally's surprise appearance was a horribly difficult—if not impossible—task. Reason why they divided us into smaller groups. It was easier to figure out what really happened that way.

I ended up finding Jared near the dock, and Patricia Wilkins was right next to him. Her arms were wrapped around one of his. Like she would fall if she let go. I wanted to feel happy for my best friend, who always complained about dying alone, but at the same time, I was angered and resentful. He told me he would look for Will and ended up ditching me.

Jared was entitled to do whatever he wanted, but we had agreed to go through tonight together.

Homer was talking to him, accompanied by another officer who took statements from their group. Apparently, Sally was supposed to be taken to the psychiatric facility tonight—her mother's decision—but she'd somehow managed to sneak out of her house and end up here.

The cops wanted to make sure she had not drank or taken anything that might have set her off. They were also interested on anyone who might have seen her before, anyone who would know how and why she had gotten to the lake house in the first place.

"So, mind guiding me through tonight's events again, Olivia?" Detective Bishop asked.

He and his partner, Detective Johanna O'Hara, were in charge of our group. They had taken special interest in Hunter and me—for obvious reasons—and you had to be blind not to notice the way they stared at us.

Both were judging each and every one of our reactions, so I distracted myself by analyzing them instead.

Detective Ranald Bishop was tall, hoary haired, and looked like he spent more hours in the gym than the required ones. Johanna, on the other side, had a thick waist, chocolatey hair, and bright green eyes.

"Olivia," Detective Bishop said. He didn't sound happy.

"Sorry.... What was the question?" I couldn't focus, not when Hunter stood next to me and everyone else kept staring at us from five feet away.