Hunting Their Enemies
I swung myself up on the last branch, freezing, before I pulled myself the rest of the way up on it.
Scarlett’s journal lay perfectly hidden from the ground between two smaller branches. I carefully picked it up as I settled back against the trunk. I tapped my finger on the cover, debating if I wanted to read it, thus intruding even deeper into her privacy. I knew I shouldn’t, but I needed to know if I was alone in how I felt. I licked my lips as I opened the journal. I spent about an hour scanning the diary, only stopping to thoroughly read the entries where I was mentioned. I slowed when I came to one that was written about two weeks after I left.
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