When I was 11 years old, a murder was committed in the vicinity of my school. A few days later, while with my group of friends, we discovered evidence that the murder had actually happened on the school ground. We also thought that we found evidence that our school headmaster might have been involved in the crime.
After deliberating among ourselves, it was decided that we would gather all our findings and take it to the police. After thanking us for our initiative, we came to believe that the constable had contacted the headmaster and not only recounted the incident to him but also given him our names.
What had convinced us that the constable had betrayed us? probably because a few days after our trip to the police station we noticed that the headmaster and one of the teachers were watching us intensely.
A few weeks after that, one of the boys in my group who was only 10 years old and whose teacher was the one watching us and pointing at us while conversing with the headmaster died mysteriously during lunch at school. The same week, I became convinced that the headmaster had tried to run me over with his car. I had not realised that it was him until he came out of his car, looked straight at me but did not try to give me a hand or help me up. Instead, he gave me an evil grin and got back in his car. He then proceeded to reverse the car prompting me to run away.
When I informed my father he told me that I misunderstood his motives and it must have been an accident, I disagreed.
Living in fear, we decided as a group to stop investigating; we were becoming paranoid and it felt like we were being watched by every single adult around us.
One of the boys refused to keep silent, convinced that it was our duty to bring the headmaster to justice.
It did not go well, he was locked in a mental institution by the end of July; we later heard from other students in town that his family was suspected of being members of the Famla, a cult known for its human sacrifices in exchange for wealth. It made sense, his family had become extremely wealthy after the death of his mother's sister; there was also the fact that another suspected proud member of the Famla was the headmaster from hell.
Rumours have it that the headmaster and the Famla continued to kill after we left the school, my dear friend who we had been forbidden to visit has supposedly taken his own life after 2 years in a mental institution although we never heard of a funeral and the rest of our group never gathered again.
The book is inspired by that story.