We all reintroduced ourselves. There were eight of us: me; George; Bess; Sam, who was going to be the sports counselor; Bella, the dark-haired girl; Maddie, a willowy redhead; Taylor, a soft-spoken, round girl who said she was the arts and crafts counselor; and Charla, a cheery dark-eyed girl with tiny braids.
We all talked about where we were from, and what had inspired us to come here. Most of the other girls were from closer to the camp. Bella even lived in the same town. “I get to go really far away for my summer vacation,” she said, rolling her eyes. But she explained that she was a Camp Larksong alum (she’d started coming after Bess stopped), and she’d always wanted to come back.
When all the introductions were over, Bella made a big show of checking to make sure she couldn’t see Deborah and Miles, and then turned back to us. “So,” she said in a mischievous voice, “is anyone scared to be here?”
“Why would we be?” I blurted.
Charla looked confused too. “Away from home, you mean?” she asked. “Or out in the woods? I am kind of scared of bears.”
“No,” Bella said, sounding a little impatient, “I mean here. On this site. You know, the old Camp Larksong.”
There was silence for a minute, and then George looked at her skeptically. “Is this about the ‘tragedy’?” she asked. “I heard something happened here, but I couldn’t find out much more than that.”
“Yeah, ‘tragedy,’ that’s one way to put it,” Bella said.
I felt a shiver run up my spine. “What’s another way?” I asked, wishing she’d get to the point.
“Well.” Bella’s eyes widened and her face seemed to come alive. “Five years ago, the last year Camp Larksong was open, they had the Best of All Worlds camp—just like the one we’re here for.”
“Okay,” said Taylor. “So?”
“On the last night,” Bella went on, “they took their tents and sleeping bags and headed out to Hemlock Hill for the campout by the lake—a Camp Larksong tradition.”
“I remember,” said Maddie, who was the third alum. “It was always the most fun night of camp . . . though I barely got any sleep!”
Bella widened her eyes even farther. “Well, this night, something really crazy happened! The rumor is one of the counselors went nuts. . . .” She paused for dramatic effect.
“And did what?” George demanded finally. I could tell Bella’s milking of the story was driving her nuts.
“And she drowned one of her own campers in the lake!” Bella finished. “You guys, this place is legit haunted. Everyone in Potterville knows that. We’re always seeing weird lights in the woods, a wailing sound coming from the lake. . . .”
Taylor looked horrified. “She drowned one of her campers?” she asked. “Yeah, that would make me pretty mad! I would totally haunt this place if someone drowned me.”
Maddie nodded slowly, looking down into her lap. “I heard about this too, from a friend from camp I used to write to,” she said. “I didn’t want to believe it was true. But—”
“We don’t know it’s true,” George cut in. Her voice was as sharp and no-nonsense as ever. I found it kind of comforting. “And to be honest, I kind of doubt it.”
Bella glared at her. “Why do you doubt it?” she asked. “Are you calling me a liar?”
George shook her head. “No, no. I believe you believe it. But . . . guys, drowning someone is murder. I’ve Googled this place a few times. I’m sure some of you have too. Don’t you think, if a murder actually happened here, it would have ended up in the news somewhere?”
“Maybe the camp covered it up,” said Bella.
“Yeah,” Maddie whispered. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know.”
Whooooooooooooo! We all jumped as a sudden wailing traveled over the water from the other side of the lake.
“That was an owl,” George said.
But Bess looked unconvinced. She bit her lip. “The camp did close down kind of suddenly,” she said. “I always wondered why. If something like this happened . . .”
George gave her a doubtful look. “Bess, come on.”
“Come on what?” Bella said. “She’s not allowed to believe me either? What is she, your dog?”
Bess scowled at Bella, clearly annoyed. “She’s my cousin,” she said. “She doesn’t tell me what to do. But I am interested in her opinion.” Bess got to her feet. “Look, nobody can prove anything tonight. So that was an interesting story, Bella, but that’s all it is right now—a story.” She yawned and covered her mouth. “I’m really tired, and I think we have to get up at some ungodly hour to make breakfast tomorrow. Anyone else ready to turn in?”
“Me,” George said without hesitation, getting up.
“Me too,” said Sam, slowly getting to her feet.
Soon most of the others followed. Bella was the last to stand, and did so reluctantly. I could tell by the look in her eye that she wasn’t pleased by how this conversation had turned out. But why? I wondered. Was she hoping to bond with the others over this ghost tale? I was with George on this one—it was super creepy to think about the camp closing because someone had died here, but Bella’s story sounded far-fetched.