Excerpt:

The camp-site buzzed with chatter, the whirring of sirens having stopped, but the flashing lights not subsided yet. Police officers, clad in florescent jackets and heavy boots wandered between tents, trying to make sense out of witness statements. The moon was rising and all people wanted to do was sleep, but they couldn't, knowing that it wasn't safe. That the second they closed their eyes, all they would be able to see was blood, and they'd never sleep.

Ali Martin sat on the stage nursing a steaming mug of coffee, her head resting on Joel's shoulder. There were still traces of mascara on her cheeks, and she was amazed that she'd stopped crying at all. This was not supposed to happen. Of all the things that could possibly happen, this was not one they'd thought of, not in a million years. 'Murder' didn't appear on any of the risk assessments. Hell, they'd never had anyone die here, not even under less sinister circumstances. Let alone someone gutted.

“We could have only had our eyes closed a few minutes,” Ali whispered, nuzzling into Joel's chest, “how could anyone do this? In a time of prayer! This... this is supposed to be a good event. It's supposed to bring people closer together. Joel, I feel like I've failed them. I've failed them all.”

He lifted her chin with his hand, raised her head to his and kissed her softly, “this was not your fault. You could never have foreseen something like this happening... the only person to blame is the psycho who did this.”

“Yes... but Joel... we let that psycho in. We let him in and now he's killed a poor, innocent seventeen year old girl.”

She burst into tears again, and buried her face in his jumper, feeling his hand rise to her back, rubbing soothing circles. Everything seemed so unreal. Ali had hoped, on more than one occasion in the last two hours, that she was dreaming and that this was just one big nightmare. Any second now she'd wake up to a snoring Joel and the sun rising around them, and this would all be over. But it wasn't a nightmare, and she wasn't going to wake up. It wasn't going to be ok.

Somewhere, a seventeen year old's family were weeping for a daughter who they were never going to see again. They'd sent her somewhere safe, somewhere that was supposed to look after her and, possibly – Ali liked to believe it did – make her a better person. They'd said goodbye to her, waved her off, not expecting it to be the last thing they said to her.

“She was only sitting a couple feet away from her little sister... her youth leader. Her friends. How could this happen?!”

“You need to stop, ok? You're not going to find any answers, I haven't got the answers. I can't bear seeing you process all of this Ali, I can't bear it. Please. Just... just... let the police do their job. Let them answer the questions. In time. Give them time.” Joel kissed the top of her head, and she realized it was unfair for her to take all of this out on him. It wasn't his fault.

She nodded, kissed him and sighed, “I was going to be a forensic scientist you know... a pathologist maybe. I gave it up, I gave up any ambitions of becoming any kind of doctor, because I can't bear seeing people suffer. I can't bear not knowing why they have to suffer,” she paused, let out a bitter laugh, “ sounds stupid coming from a Christian, right? But I couldn't even use the fact that I would be helping them not to suffer any more, or stopping other people from suffering in the same way... I couldn't use that as a motive to help. I just gave up on the whole thing, turned away from science. Because I'm weak and I can't do it. I can't do it Joel.”

Ali was well aware that she stopped making sense long ago, but Joel didn't seem to mind, soothing her with his soft words of encouragement, holding her close and kissing her. She had never felt like she needed to explain herself to him, had never told him why she hadn't pursued a career in chemistry, even after working her butt off to get the degree – which was probably one of the hardest, after medicine – and he'd never asked. She hadn't intended to tell anyone about it. If she was completely honest, she was ashamed. Ashamed of her own weakness and self-pity.

“That poor little girl had to watch her sister die,” Ali said after a long moment of silence.