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I sit back with my rootbeer in my hand. I feel as though I've stepped into another realm. My mind is reeling with everything that is going on. The body and mess have been taken care of. Yet I can't help thinking that one of us probably killed her.
I'm taken back to all the mysteries I've read. I can recall some plots that follow this, and it makes me feel uncomfortable. If what she said is real then one of us is a werewolf. But who?
I look around the room and take in each person. They all look human enough. I try pulling all the knowledge from my Encyclopedia Brown days hoping someone will give something that says they are the werewolf.
I don't want anyone to start throwing accusations without any hard evidence. At the same time I don't want to think of the consequences if we don't.
As I mull this all over in my mind, I think aboit the points people have made about others. Do they have merit? Is someone trying to send us on the wrong trail?
I don't come up with any answers. At this point the werewolf could be any one of us. Do we kill someone and hope it's the werewolf?
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The only thing to expect is the unexpected.
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