Cass McBride isn’t sure that David Kirby killed himself because of her stupid note. The idea of that geek wanting to go out with her was too weird, anyway. Still, she wishes she hadn’t written it. It’s causing her a huge headache, which a couple of Dad’s Xanax and a good night’s sleep will cure. But, instead of waking up refreshed, Cass instantly knows that something is very wrong. The impenetrable dark, the smell of the earth, the rough wood against her fingers. . . . This is no dream. This is her worst nightmare.
In a novel of mounting terror, where a teenaged girl’s thoughtless act trips the switch on a series of horrific events, Gail Giles displays her talent for probing the adolescent mind’s darkest and most disquieting corners.
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