Can’t Live Without You: Book 1
Crying into a pillow all day seems like my plan.
Yesterday It was my sister’s death. She was kidnapped then killed. And I was going to find out who.
My sister, Lassie, was known as the “Beauitful Queen” because she always acted like a nice queen to us.
She died at age 6, and I was the one the found her body.
Her arm was sticking out of a ditch in Little Rock, Arkansas, the place where I was born.
Her first half of her body was there, the rest all chopped up.
When I was there, a man about 5’7, brown hair, and nerdy glasses was driving away really fast, but I was fast enough to catch his face.
Tan skin, scars around his lip, evil eyes.
I knew he killed my sister.
I quickly got up and ignored what I was going to wear.
The smell of raspberry cornflake ceral filled up my nostrills.
Today I was going to find out the guy’s name