[Day 5, Dec. 24 – Wintermist Island]
Dave Carter
The air felt too heavy to breathe. Margaret was dead. Her lifeless body sprawled on the pristine couch, blood staining the fabric.
She was slumped against the cushions, her head tilted unnaturally, blood trailing from her temple. Her once-vivid eyes stared blankly ahead, her lips parted as if frozen mid-sentence.
My chest tightened with fear and a cold shiver ran down my spine.
Who had done this? And why?
I forced myself to look away, my thoughts a chaotic swirl. This wasn’t just sabotage anymore—it was murder.
My pulse hammered in my ears, and my stomach churned as I moved cautiously around the room, searching for anything—anything—that could explain what had happened.
The scent of blood lingered, sharp and metallic, mixing with t
