“I'M COMING! WAIT FOR ME, KELSEY!”
But Kelsey was running away from her, fleetly, as if she knew this dark wood well. “Kelsey! Wait for me…”
She heard the soft laughing of birds from the branches, and a cry that throbbed into an echo. She came upon Kelsey lying on her face in the moss, and lifted her up. But it was too late. This face was dead. It was Kelsey who had died, not the other girl. The other girl lived, blind, but this was Kelsey here dead, cuddled in the bruised and bloody moss.
She fingered the dead face, and the hungry tentacles of trees swooped down…
Click on any of the links above to see more books like this one.