Stabak 2012 sharodiya edition | Page 114

opened it. Inside were dates, entries, and times. It wasn’t long before we realized what it was. We exchanged confused glances. It was a diary. Safely tucking the book under my arm, Aarti and I walked home. Closing the door to my room, I laid the diary on my desk. I opened the book and slowly examined it once more. Aarti waited for me to speak. “This diary belongs to a girl named Sarah James” I told her. “That name sounds rather familiar” Aarti inquired. I turned the page. “Strange.” I muttered. “Very strange.” I finished with a frown. “What is it?” Aarti wanted to know. “These aren’t like normal entries. They’re explained in poetry.” I concluded. “Do you think that gives us a clue on who the man is?” Aarti asked. “I’m not so sure” I replied. Soon Aarti went home. The next morning we drove to my favorite lake with Aarti’s family for a picnic. The sandwiches, cookies, and juice didn’t last very long. So after eating, Aarti and I decided to explore the woo FVB&V&V