My mind felt like it was floating. I was asleep, wasn't I? I knew I was because there she lay in her plain, loose, white gown. I could make out her long black curls from all the other times I became one with the lake. It served as a strikingly beautiful appearance once again. Like magic. This time though, she looked to be drowning.

Her hands were at her sides as her body floated up from somewhere below the surface. She reminded me of Ophelia as if she'd been ripped from the pages of Hamlet. I refused to look away for several reasons. Number one being whenever I did, she would disappear.

"Tyler," a whisper echoed through the wind.

Was it her? Was it coming from somewhere else in the trees? I couldn't tell. Her lips weren't moving at all. One thing I knew for sure was, the voice wasn't far. Unlike the other times I saw her, there were no other people here. No hands wrapping around my torso. No hands touching my face. Most importantly, no her smiling in my direction.

Her white dress filled with water until it clung to her wet skin. She'd been lying alone still as a statue while I watched from the edge of the lake. It was hard to tell if she was dead or alive. The bottom hem of her dress was rising as more water eased its way under the fabric. The thing that made her seem most dead was her eyes were wide open. Staring at nothing in the open sky.

"Tyler," the voice repeated, "set us free."

Suddenly, I was a fourteen-year-old boy again remembering everything. The way their hands grazed my skin to the way their eyes ravished me. I clenched my eyes shut, taking a few seconds to breathe. Close my eyes and count to three, I taught myself.

"Tyler Loftman! Wake up!" I jolted awake, nearly flinging myself out of my seat. Patty's frightened expression invaded my personal space. The fright soon turned into concern. She glanced down at my hands, which were slightly shaking, then searched my face.

"Tyler, are you okay?" It was then I noticed beads of sweat lined the crease of my forehead. I rubbed my hand over it and frowned. "You were mumbling and shaking in your sleep. I figured you were having a nightmare so I tried to wake you. But you wouldn't budge," she continued.

"Thank you, Patty. I owe you one." I sighed and looked down at my hands. The shaking had finally stopped. Among other things, that was the least of my worries. My dreams were growing just as aggressive as my visions. That was concerning.

"Here, lunch"—Patty slid a brown paper bag in front of me—"because I know you didn't eat before you rushed over here." I hated to admit it, but she was right. So, I took the paper bag with no questions asked. She then took out a paper bag of her own. Breathless, I chuckled.

It wasn't unusual for Patty to bring extra lunch from home these days. Her mother often packed her things so she didn't have to worry about going hungry for the day. I figured nothing less with all of her extra curriculum courses and AP assignments. We'd been hanging out for so long now, she picked up on my bad habits as I did hers.

"Ms. Carol won't have a problem with us eating here, right?" she asked.

I glanced back over my shoulder to find Ms. Carol was nowhere to be found. She was probably just wandering around then. I first saw her when I entered the library, but that was it.

Mrs. Carol finally convinced Cecilia not to worry about her moving out and about a few times a day. I couldn't blame her for not wanting to be cooped up in that tiny room for long periods of time anymore. Nor could I blame Cecilia for worrying. Cecilia was too busy working the front desk with Craig to stop her anyways.

I couldn't believe after two months of seeing the blonde working around the library, I was just finding out his name. As it turned out, Craig Roy was an exchange student from France working intern hours here for the summer. I wasn't sure what made him pick a town like Lake Bellinor to stay in but I wasn't going to judge his decision.

"Nah, don't worry about it. As long as we don't make a mess or get anything on any of the library's books, I think we're fine," I answered Patty.

She nodded. "Alright then, let's see those pictures you took."

"Oh, right." I dug around my pockets for my phone. When I grabbed ahold of it, I scrolled through my gallery, bringing up the pictures and handing her the phone. There had to be at least fifteen to twenty of them in my camera roll. I didn't realize I took that many until I got home.

"Is there something on your fingers in this one?" Patty turned the screen. I squinted at the picture, nothing it was from when I touched the sulfur powder on the carpet.

"Oh, yeah. As I was snooping around, I found some remnants of sulfur powder lying around the carpet. It was super weird if you ask me." I shrugged.

"You said it yourself. The house is old. That could be a reason, right?" She shrugged.

I shook my head and pointed to the picture. "Maybe but I only found it in this spot. If that was the case, where did the powder come from? Did someone drop it? Was it brought into the house? That's the part I'm not quite understanding."

"Hmm, I guess you've got a point. . ." She sighed in defeat. Her fingers began flicking to the left. As she continued through the rest of the pictures, I noticed her lips curving down. The middle of her forehead wrinkled. Then, she started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" I glared.

Patty tried to hide her laughter, but it seeped through her lips. Quiet, but still obnoxious.

"Were you trying to take a selfie?" she uttered.

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. "No. I accidentally clicked the button when I turned on my camera. I didn't know the camera was facing me."

The scrunch in her nose lifted higher. She then opened her mouth to retort but her face fell. She stared at my phone screen for what felt like a century, pulling her bottom lip in her mouth.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Um Tyler, what's that?"

"What's what?" I followed Patty's finger to the selfie. Nothing stuck out to me at first. Then, there was a shadow. Something, similar to a figure, towered above my head. Though it appeared to be far, I could see it was closer than it looked. The shadow was in the distance behind the blade of my shoulder—seemingly looking down on me through the hole. Barely to be seen.

"I . . . don't know." I frowned.

Patty moved the screen closer to her face, her eyes zeroing in on the background. "It kind of looks like a person," she mumbled. My heart dropped at her comment. I tilted her wrist, accessing my phone screen once again. Her suggestion wasn't wrong. That did look like a person, and that scared me the most because I thought so too.

The outline of the silhouette shaped a body; no face, no clothing, just a blurred image. The fact that said thing was standing too close for comfort sent shivers down my spine.

"Now that you've pointed that out, plaster kept falling from the ceiling above me as I was looking around. At first, it was coming from one spot, then the plaster started to move."

"What do you mean by it started to move?" she asked, bewildered.

"I mean . . . as I was walking, the plaster fell from a specific spot. Kind of like it was trailing in different directions. You don't think there could have been someone in the house with me, right?" To think someone was doing exactly what I was doing, possibly with other intentions, had the saliva in my throat running dry.

What made this situation worse was I had no idea they were there. Sure, I suspected it but I never acted upon it. They, however, knew I was there. They'd managed to watch me. For how long? I couldn't give an estimate even if I wanted to. We may not have been in the same room, but surely were in the same house.

"It's not impossible," Patty said, frowning, "but who? And why? How did they get inside?"

"What if"—I paused, stroking the bottom of my chin—"they were searching for something?

"What?"

"Searching for something. Obviously, I would've heard someone enter the house with me. But I didn't. Nor did I see anyone. They had to be there before I got there. Anyone could've easily slipped in through the backdoor just as I did. Maybe even an open window I wasn't aware of."

"Okay, wait. Maybe we're overthinking this. . . It could've just been a shadow that got caught in the camera, right? Sometimes our eyes catch onto things that aren't there."

"I don't know, Patty. . ."

"I mean, it's just like sitting in a dark room at night, staring at dark shapes, and thinking you're seeing something else—she used her fingers to stretch the picture—"see? It looks like nothing more than a harmless blur. Besides, if someone were in the house with you, why didn't they make a run for it or better yet approach you? Especially if they were up to no good."

I shrugged. "They could've been trying to keep quiet. I've watched enough crime shows and heard enough about crime to know if someone wants to keep a low profile, they will."

Patty rolled her eyes without a reply, signaling the conversation was over. So, I took a bit from my sandwich. There was no use in bringing the image up again until I needed to. She slid my phone back to me then turned over to the bookshelves. I watched her continuously catch her bottom lip in between her teeth again, letting it go repeatedly.

The signs of distress grew as a frown sat on her lips. I followed her eyes around, confused, before finally popping the question. "What's wrong?" 

She sighed, motioning towards the bookshelves. "I've been struggling with ideas for my project. Do you remember the assignment I mentioned yesterday—the one talking about the history of Lake Bellinor?"

"Yeah." I nodded.

"Well, I realized, I don't know as much about this town as I thought. And a lot of the old history has either been lost, forgotten, or destroyed. I asked my dad about it since he's running for mayor. He's grown up here his entire life.

"So, I was certain he'd be able to tell me something. But he wasn't much help. Or he was just hiding things from me as a way to make me do it on my own. Then, I emailed my teacher about it and he told me to keep digging. I don't know what to do!"

"Really? It can't be that bad. You've said it many times before. Lake Bellinor can be a beautiful town . . . when people treat it properly."

There was that and other factors. I assumed all small towns had a few hundred files on its history, kept in offices of importance with other records dated back to the past. Lake Bellinor had to have some sort of treasured history to it. I mean, how else would tourists have learned about Lake Bellinor? Surely, they found something off websites or whatever else.

"We should have some monuments, statues, and other forms of art sitting in town somewhere. There's just no way we don't have any information to back us up," I said.

"I've tried searching around online, but that's not much help. The internet is much newer technology compared to what we had when Lake Bellinor was first discovered and built." She said, dismissing my thoughts.

"Hmm, have you checked in with Ms. Carol? This library is huge. Maybe you can find more about Lake Bellinor's history from here. Mr. Jefferson can help as well. They've both lived here for a long time too. Oh, and I'm sure my brother wouldn't mind. He has access to tons of files. Though, it may not be what you're looking for . . . but I'll help you too," I said.

Her face sparkled with glee at the word help, and a small smile stretched across her face. "I knew there was a reason we got along. Thank you, Loftman!" She grinned and practically threw herself over the table at me. I blinked rapidly, unable to dodge her hug fast enough, earning a groan from my lips. She laughed at my discomfort and squeezed.

I could never tell if my discomfort derived from her being so open or me being so closed off. I'd admit, our bond was built on more than just the trust she had in me. From the day I allowed her to join me in my search for Emerald Lynn's murderer to now, I was still her first and only friend, and I'd never had someone attached to me in the way Patty was. It was a lot to take in.

But it was a work in progress. After all, Patty was nothing more than a girl aiming to break free from her over extorted life. There was nothing wrong with that. She just so happened to pick me as the person to help her do so. I'd say I was doing a decent job at being a good friend.

"Come on." I waved her over. "Let's go find some books."

"Okay." She nodded and followed.