The Girl From the Woods

There were voices shouting, screaming my name, and footsteps rushing away. But I didn't see any of that. My vision was hazy, and my whole body hurt. Even if I moved in the slightest, everything was on fire.

Then there was only darkness.



I opened my eyes, the light blinding. Someone was standing over me—a nurse—and she had my wrist in her hand. She nodded approvingly.

"Your pulse is strong," she murmured, smiling. "How are you feeling?"

"What happened?" I asked, my throat sore.

The nurse frowned. "There was an incident. You don't remember? You were attacked outside a bar. A woman brought you in. Bridget?"

"She's one of the bartenders," I said, easing myself into a sitting position. "Is she here?"

"She is. Would you like me to go get her?"

I nodded, and once she left the room, I tried to recall the events that brought me to the hospital. When I couldn't, I shut my eyes. But once I heard the door, I opened them.

Bridget was standing in front of me, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Quinn," she whispered, coming over and grabbing my hand. "Are you okay?"

"Who attacked me?" I asked.

Bridget pulled a chair up next to my bed. "The guy who hit you, he said his name was James Saunders. Quinn, he's Rachel's brother."

"Rachel doesn't have a brother," I told her. "I'd looked into her family after she died. It was just her and her parents."

Bridget paled a bit, then shook her head. "Are you sure?"

"I'm certain."

We looked at each other.

Who really attacked me, and why?