❛𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒!❜
⸻ in which Rory Hargrove is obsessed to uncover
the truth behind Barbara Holland's disappearance, while
facing her brother's enemy and buried se...
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HAWKINS, INDIANA
OCTOBER, 1984
THE DRY LEAVES, painted red and brown, drift aimlessly along the road, pushed by the wind that blows between them. The tires of the car and trailer they were pulling leave a mark on the ground, a trail of leaves crushed and damped by the shy, gentle rain that moistens the atmosphere and awakens autumn.
With her head resting on the window, she gazes out at the quiet landscape in shades of red and brown.
The sun's rays break through the layer of dense, dark clouds that look more like dirty, absorbent cotton, leaving a golden beam of light in the sky that will try to illuminate the horizon for the next few hours until the sun sets to make way for the moon.
The smell of wet earth filled her nostrils, awakening her childhood memories of the start of a new school year, and she could put on her rubber boots, jump in the puddles, and throw herself on the dry leaves that piled up under the trees that had been reduced to bare branches.
But fall wasn't her favorite season. For her, it was like the death of summer. When the deafening silence returned to dominate the surroundings, the birds fled and the cold returned to chill her soul. What's more, the sea, her friend in summer, became an implacable enemy in winter. The waves, aggressive and majestic, were capable of swallowing her if she stepped into them.
But life was a cycle and she would have to get used to it, as she had done for seventeen years, until spring came to revive nature.
Her breathing, calm and rhythmic, accompanied the heavy, deep breathing of the girl sleeping with her head on her shoulder, her half-sister, Max. Her red hair rebelliously covered her arm and brushed against her neck. She looked so cute when she slept, certainly a contrast to her natural fierceness. She smiled as she watched her.
Her brother, Billy, exhaled black tobacco smoke through his nose and mouth, his arm resting on the open window, the cigarette tucked between his fingers.
Their father was driving, Neil Hargrove, an excellent security guard with a strong personality, quiet and sophisticated, who had a need to dominate others in order to feel superior. His well-being depended on having everyone obey him, for better or worse, with the excuse of being the best for everyone.
That's why he decided to leave the town where his kids, his girlfriend Susan and her daughter had grown up and lived. In the name of a new beginning. That year had indeed been tragic. But surely leaving everything behind wouldn't help heal the open wounds.
