The Face by R.L. Stine, Bill Schmidt

wire,” I interrupted. “Did somebody deliberately plan to kill one of us?”
    Silence. Then: “No one knows, Martha.”
    â€œHuh?” I cried. “But the police—? Didn’t they figure out what happened?”
    Adriana sighed. “It took forever for the police to get up the slope. We were all crying and screaming. We were all out of our minds. Poor Laura. They had to give her medication to put her to sleep. And Ivan nearly went nuts.”
    â€œBut, the police—” I tried to say.
    â€œThey questioned us all. They studied the wire. Then they took it down and brought it to their lab. But they couldn’t figure out who strung the wire. Or why.”
    Tears rolled down my cheeks. I made no attempt to brush them away. I was concentrating on Adriana’s words, trying to understand what she was telling me.
    And now I could hear her crying too. Short, gasping sobs. “I—I—I—” she stammered. “I don’t know. It was so awful. Such a total nightmare, Martha.”
    Silence while she tried to get herself together.Then she continued in a shaky voice. “I’ll never get over it. I haven’t slept since. Not a single night, Martha. Not a single night that I didn’t live that nightmare again. Again and again.”
    â€œAdriana—” I started.
    But she uttered a loud sob and kept talking. “I can’t concentrate. I don’t hear a word in school. I can’t do my homework. My grades—my grades … I can’t think straight.”
    A cold shudder nearly made me drop the phone. I gripped it tighter in my clammy hand. “Adriana,” I choked out, “you don’t think one of us killed Sean—do you?”
    â€œWhat do
you
think?” she replied, shouting now. Screaming the words as if she were angry. “What do
you
think, Martha? There was no one else up on that hilltop. No one. We were the only ones up there. Who else could have Strung that wire?”
    The wire.
    The silver wire.
    I pictured the wire as I tried to digest Adriana’s words.
    Who else could have strung that wire?
    No one else was up there. We were the only ones.
    The only ones who could have killed Sean.
    â€œI’m coming over,” Adriana said suddenly, jarring me from my thoughts. Her voice was filled with emotion. “I’m coming over. I’ve been so worried about you, Martha. It must have been so horrible for you. Losing your memory. Then starting to draw Sean’s face again and again.”
    â€œYes. I—I didn’t understand anything.” I sighed. “It took me so long to put it together. It took me so long to remember.”
    A question forced its way into my mind, a question I didn’t want to ask myself.
    Why did I lose my memory? Why not one of the others, one of my friends?
    Why did I take Sean’s death so much harder than anyone else? Why did it affect me so strongly?
    Was it because I had fought with Sean the night before he was murdered? Did I feel guilty because I had fought with him on his last night on earth?
    Why? Why?
    It was a question I couldn’t answer.
    But maybe someone could help answer it now. Maybe Adriana would help me now.
    â€œYes—please,” I pleaded. “Come over. Come over right now.”
    â€œI’m on my way,” she replied softly. And the phone went dead.
    I set down the receiver, thinking hard. My mind whirring at top speed.
    Remembering.
    Who had a reason to kill Sean?
    Who would want Sean dead?
    Ivan? No. Sean was Ivan’s friend. Ivan had brought him into our group.
    Aaron? Laura? Justine?
    No. No. Of course not.
    Everyone liked Sean. Everyone.
    I crossed my bedroom to the closet and pulledopen the door. I wanted to get changed before Adriana arrived.
    I pulled a pair of faded jeans from the shelf in back.
    I was glad Adriana had decided to come over. Maybe now we could have a long, long talk. Get everything off our