The bright light cut through the darkness, and I immediately recognized the voice.
It wasn't Charles.
It was Xander.
He stepped out from behind an oak tree, holding his phone with the flashlight still pointing toward us. His face looked troubled, as if he were struggling between what he had been told to do and what he knew was right.
"You?" I whispered, quickly stepping in front of the notebook. "Are you the one helping Charles?"
"I'm not helping him," Xander replied quickly. His voice sounded tense. "I'm trying to stop him before he does something terrible."
"Then why are you here?" I demanded.
Xander looked down for a moment before meeting my eyes again.
"Charles has something against my family. If I refuse to give him information, he'll destroy my father's business. He'll ruin o
