Miles cleared his throat. “Well,” he said again. “It was . . . It was unfortunate, yeah.”
“What exactly happened?” George jumped in, unable to hide her curiosity any longer.
“Yeah,” Bess said, “was it something to do with the lake? I heard it was something about the lake.”
Miles sighed and looked around again, as though he were hoping to find someone to pull him out of this conversation. But when he saw no one, he hemmed and hawed a few times, then began:
“Well, okay, right, it was the last summer Camp Larksong was open. It was this week of camp, actually—the Best of All Worlds camp. Camp Larksong used to have one too, right?” He paused, and Bess nodded eagerly. “Right. Well, anyway, you know the last night of camp, there’s always been the traditional campout on Hemlock Hill overlooking the lake. This one year, unbeknownst to her counselors or anyone else at the camp, one of the ten-year-old girls snuck out of her tent and went into the lake while everyone was sleeping.” He coughed. “It was awhile before anyone heard her, and though one of the counselors jumped in and pulled her out, she nearly drowned.”
I couldn’t help looking at Bess and George with wide eyes. So . . . there had been a drowning? A near drowning?
“But she survived?” Bess asked, clearly confused.
Miles nodded. “I mean, it wasn’t a great situation. She’d been without oxygen for a long time, and they were worried about brain damage. She was in the hospital for a while, I think. But she ended up okay.”
I bit my lip. So there was a near drowning . . . but no death. That kind of cut Bella’s ghost story up into a hundred little pieces. Living girls can’t haunt. Living girls can’t breathe under water long enough to drown someone else.
“It wasn’t the camp’s fault,” Miles was saying, “but it hurt their reputation, you know? And I think it kind of broke the owners’ hearts. So they closed it.”
Bess took in a breath. “But—”
But she was cut off by a chorus of voices coming across the sports field.
“Nancy!”
“Nancy, check out my passing move!”
“Nancy, where’s Maya?”
“Nancy, what time do we have to be at the mess hall for setup duty tonight?”
“I hate setup duty!”
“I know, but it’s so much less gross than cleanup duty!”
I turned around to see my campers all barreling toward us across the field, pink-cheeked and excited. Did forty-five minutes really go by that quickly?
I stood up. “You guys are done already?”
Kiki, who was in the lead, grinned at me. “Done? Not only are we done, Nancy, but Sam says I’m the most unique soccer player she’s ever seen.”
“I don’t think that was a compliment,” Nina muttered.
“What’s next?” Cece asked brightly.
I glanced back at George and Bess. “Um, I think I’m going to have to take a rain check on the rest of this conversation!” I said with a smile. “It was nice talking to you, Miles.”
George stood up. “I’d better go too,” she said. “Bess’s and my campers will be done any minute.”
Miles nodded. “Nice talking to you girls too,” he called. “See you later!”
All my campers circled around me as we walked back to the cabin for a quick rest before setup duty. They were full of funny, bubbly stories about one another and what had happened during soccer practice. Even Harper, who trailed behind the group with a dreamy expression, smiled when Cece explained how Kiki had yelped and jumped when she saw a bee.
I felt a rush of affection for these silly, innocent girls.
I have to do everything within my power to make sure they’re safe, I thought. Which means I’d better get to the bottom of what’s happening at Camp Cedarbark.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Something in the Lake
“NANCY, LOOK!”
I glanced up from where I lounged on a towel the next morning on the small beach on the lake. Harper leaped off the raft in a perfect swan dive, then reemerged a few yards away, beaming.
“That’s amazing, Harper!” I yelled, clapping. That morning I’d been surprised to learn that Harper was, of all things, a super-talented swimmer. She said she’d been taking lessons since she was four.
Her eagerness to show off her skills wasn’t always going down well with the other campers, though.
“Harper,” Cece complained from her perch atop the raft as the quiet girl climbed up the ladder again. Her voice was loud enough to carry over the lake. “Can you please stop diving off every five minutes? Other people are trying to relax here.”
Harper frowned at her. “I’m just doing what I like to do,” she said. “And you’re doing what you like to do. What’s the problem?”
“The problem is you’re getting me wet,” Cece complained. “Every time you walk from the ladder to the other side to dive. And every time you do that, you send the raft shaking.”
Harper glared at her. “You can’t stop me,” she said.
Cece groaned.