Who Killed Beth Cook? Was it Worth it?

I almost bump into this stranger. Tall; but not too tall. Hair long and jet black. All black clothing. I stop, freeze. I don’t dare to meet the eyes probably with murder and blood inside them. Ernaline Prescott. Could she have done it? I wondered to myself. I dared myself to speak, but no words would come out. “Boo!” She whispered as she turned the corner. It made me jump and I dropped my books on the tiled floor. As she slinked down the corridor she said one last thing, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to stare?”