Book 1 - The Boy in the Yearbook: The Photograph - Chapter 7 - Don't Look for Him

10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVWrQhT2OxX

The lock clicked.

Clara stared at the door.

For one second, nobody moved.

Then Noah rushed forward and grabbed the handle.

Noah: "It's locked."

He pulled harder.

Nothing.

Maya: "Move."

She tried it herself.

Still nothing.

Adrian looked toward the ceiling.

Adrian: "There has to be another exit."

Elena shook her head.

Elena: "There wasn't one on the school plans."

Clara turned toward the wall.

The enormous photograph of the six teenagers stared back at her.

Five names were visible.

The sixth had been scratched away.

Clara: "Who locked us in here?"

Nobody answered.

A sound came from the hallway.

Footsteps.

Slow.

One.

Two.

Three.

They stopped directly outside the door.

Clara held her breath.

A shadow appeared beneath it.

Someone was standing there.

Noah: "Who's there?"

Silence.

Then three knocks.

Knock.

Maya stepped backward.

Maya: "That's creepy."

The shadow disappeared.

Adrian suddenly grabbed the door handle.

Adrian: "Wait."

He looked at Clara.

Adrian: "Don't say anything."

The room went silent.

A key slid underneath the door.

It landed on the floor.

Clara stared at it.

A small brass key.

Attached to it was a piece of black ribbon.

She bent down and picked it up.

Something had been written on the ribbon in silver ink.

FOR CLARA.

Noah's face hardened.

Noah: "Don't touch it."

Clara had already picked it up.

The moment her fingers closed around the key, the lock clicked.

The door opened.

No one was there.

They ran.

They didn't stop until they reached the main staircase.

Noah leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

Noah: "Everyone okay?"

Maya nodded.

Elena didn't answer.

She was staring at Clara.

Elena: "You shouldn't have touched the key."

Clara looked at it.

Clara: "Why?"

Elena's voice was barely above a whisper.

Elena: "Because my grandmother had one."

Clara froze.

Clara: "What?"

Elena looked down the empty hallway.

Elena: "A black ribbon. A brass key."

She swallowed.

Elena: "She kept it in a locked box."

Maya: "What did it open?"

Elena shook her head.

Elena: "I don't know."

Noah: "Did she ever mention Elliot?"

Elena nodded.

Elena: "Once."

Everyone became quiet.

Elena: "When I was little, I asked her why she never talked about Blackwood Academy."

She looked at Clara.

Elena: "She told me there was one boy she wished she'd never met."

Clara's heart sank.

Clara: "Elliot."

Elena nodded.

Elena: "She said his name once."

A pause.

Elena: "Then she told me something I'll never forget."

Clara: "What?"

Elena looked frightened.

Elena: "She said, 'If Clara Blackwood ever asks you about him, don't answer.'"

The hallway seemed to tilt.

Noah: "Clara?"

Clara couldn't speak.

Her grandmother had died years before Clara had even started attending Blackwood Academy.

How could she have known Clara would ask?

And why?

Adrian stepped closer.

Adrian: "Your grandmother knew the Blackwoods."

Elena: "Apparently."

Adrian: "Then she knew my father."

Elena nodded.

Elena: "And yours."

Clara looked at Adrian.

Clara: "This goes deeper than Elliot."

Adrian: "I know."

They returned to the library.

Maya spread everything they had found across a table.

The photographs.

The newspaper article.

The torn yearbook page.

The key.

The note.

The six-person photograph.

She arranged them chronologically.

Maya: "Let's start with what we know."

Noah sat beside her.

Noah: "Elliot Ashford attended Blackwood Academy in 1987."

Maya: "But his official records were erased."

Elena: "He disappeared on October 14."

Adrian: "My father knew him."

Clara: "So did mine."

Maya pointed to the photograph.

Maya: "Professor Ashcroft knew him."

Elena: "And my grandmother."

Noah looked at the photograph.

Noah: "That's five people."

Maya tapped the scratched-out space.

Maya: "But there were six."

Clara stared at the empty space.

She couldn't shake the feeling that the missing person was the most important clue.

Clara: "What if the sixth person was the reason Elliot disappeared?"

Nobody spoke.

Then Clara's phone vibrated.

She looked at the screen.

Unknown number.

Another message.

YOU'RE GETTING CLOSER.

A second message appeared.

STOP LOOKING FOR HIM.

Then a third.

OR THEY'LL DO TO YOU WHAT THEY DID TO HIM.

Noah read over her shoulder.

Noah: "Give me the phone."

Clara handed it to him.

He immediately tried calling the number.

It went straight to voicemail.

A distorted voice played.

Static.

Then—

A whisper.

"Don't look for him."

The call ended.

Maya stared at Noah.

Maya: "Can you trace it?"

Noah: "Not from this."

Adrian took the phone.

He looked at Clara.

Adrian: "This isn't a joke anymore."

Clara: "I know."

Adrian: "Someone knows what we're doing."

Clara: "I know."

Adrian: "They know your name."

Clara looked at him.

Clara: "I know."

Adrian lowered his voice.

Adrian: "Then stop."

Clara shook her head.

Clara: "No."

Adrian: "Clara."

Clara: "Someone erased a seventeen-year-old boy from this school."

She picked up the photograph.

Clara: "Someone erased his name."

She held up the picture.

Clara: "Someone tried to erase his face."

Then she pointed to her own name written on the back.

Clara: "And now someone is writing to me."

Adrian stared at her.

Clara: "I'm not stopping."

For a moment, Adrian said nothing.

Then he nodded.

Adrian: "Then neither am I."

Noah looked at him.

Noah: "You sure?"

Adrian: "No."

He looked at Clara.

Adrian: "But I'm not leaving her alone."

Clara felt something shift between them.

It wasn't quite trust.

Not yet.

But it was something.

That evening, Clara returned home.

The house was quiet.

Too quiet.

She walked into her bedroom and closed the door.

The brass key was still in her pocket.

She placed it on her desk.

Then she noticed something.

A small piece of paper was underneath it.

She hadn't put it there.

Her hands went cold.

She unfolded it.

Four words.

ASK YOUR FATHER ABOUT 1987.

Clara stared at the message.

Her father.

Of course.

He had been there.

He knew Elliot.

He knew Professor Ashcroft.

He knew Adrian's father.

Maybe he knew everything.

Clara walked downstairs.

Her father was sitting in the living room, reading.

He looked up.

Father: "You're home late."

Clara stood in the doorway.

Clara: "Dad?"

Father: "Yes?"

She held up the photograph.

His expression changed instantly.

The book in his hand slipped onto the floor.

He stared at Elliot.

Then at Clara.

Father: "Where did you get that?"

Clara's heart pounded.

Clara: "Who is he?"

Her father stood.

Father: "Clara, put that away."

Clara: "You know him."

Father: "No."

Clara: "Don't lie to me."

Her father's face hardened.

Father: "You don't understand what you're getting involved in."

Clara stepped closer.

Clara: "Then explain it."

He looked at the photograph again.

For the first time, Clara saw fear in her father's eyes.

Father: "Elliot Ashford was dangerous."

Clara frowned.

Clara: "He was seventeen."

Father: "That doesn't mean he was innocent."

Clara: "What did he do?"

Her father said nothing.

Clara waited.

Finally, he whispered:

Father: "He found something."

Clara: "What?"

Her father looked toward the staircase.

Then toward the windows.

As if he expected someone to be listening.

Father: "Something at the school that should never have been found."

Clara's heart raced.

Clara: "What was it?"

Her father walked toward her.

Father: "Promise me you'll stop."

Clara: "No."

Father: "Clara."

Clara: "What did Elliot find?"

Her father closed his eyes.

Then he said the words that would change everything.

Father: "He found out who the sixth person was."

Clara froze.

Clara: "Who?"

Her father looked directly at her.

Father: "I don't know."

A beat of silence.

Then—

Father: "Because Elliot took the name with him."

Clara stared at him.

Clara: "Where?"

Her father's voice broke.

Father: "That's what we've been trying to figure out for thirty-nine years."

Upstairs, Clara's bedroom door slowly creaked open.

Neither of them heard it.

On Clara's desk, the brass key had disappeared.

And beside the empty space where it had been was a new photograph.

A photograph Clara had never seen before.

Elliot was standing in the east wing.

Behind him was a door.

And written across the photograph in fresh black ink:

YOU FOUND THE WRONG DOOR.

10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH5wErcpda7
10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEXnyGCa1n1

ns216.73.216.103da2

Reading Theme:

Font Size:

Line Spacing:

Paragraph Spacing:

Load the next issue automatically