I flip through, looking for any clues, but there’s nothing. It’s all regular stuff. She talks about her first boyfriend. She talks about finding flowers to put in her hair at the school ball. She talks about playing the piano and watching racing and going for walks along the beach. But I can’t find anything to prove she’s a killer. Then I see something that makes me stop. January 2, 1941 The scream carried all the way across the graveyard. That’s the only reason I knew they were there. I ducked into the trees and crept closer, trying to keep out of sight. Claire and her friends were outside the door. I couldn’t see what poor girl they took in this time, but whoever it was, they didn’t last long. She screamed, banging and banging on the door. I don’t understand what’s so scary about the church. It’s not like there are actually any ghosts.
