Seven.

Claire sauntered around the lake. The park was the last place she had used her phone, and she needed it back. Questions whirled persistently in her head, and she wanted to call Brett and clear things up. Claire tried to retrace her steps. She closed her eyes and concentrated on remembering as much as she could about the previous evening. She remembered the boy looking into the water, and had a vague recollection of a man in a black suit. She went to the edge of the lake and peered into the water. Nothing. Dejectedly, Claire sat down on a nearby bench and looked around, letting out a sigh that formed a cloud in the cold air. There was no one else around. The park was empty, and the birds were Claire's only companions. For a long time, she watched and listened to them, wishing they could tell her what she didn't know.

The leaves rustled as the wind blew them from the branches of the trees surrounding the lake. She heard the light plinking sound of the ripples made in the lake, the soft oofhs of the breeze, the  of gentle shush of the waving grass, the snap of a twig... The snap of a twig? Claire was suddenly aware of her surroundings. More crackling sounds followed, an indication of someone approaching close to where she sat. She listened and grew more and more anxious as the footsteps grew closer and closer, and suddenly stopped. She waited for a few more minutes, but heard nothing. I'm going insane, she told herself. As if on a cue, there was a small pop, and Claire turned her head just in time to see a feathered dart flying straight at her and puncturing her neck. She made to gasp, but nothing came out, and her body became numb, and everything around her became black.