⸻ ❛𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒!❜
Rory Hargrove is obsessed to uncover the truth behind Barbara Holland's disappearance, while facing her brother's enemy and buried secrets from...
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THE SOUND OF THE BIKE'S TIRES SCRAPING THE PAVEMENT at high speed left a trail that echoed throughout the area. Rory pedaled deftly, listening to the sound of the air rushing past her ears and ruffling her light brown hair.
Though the sky above stretched in an unbroken expanse of brilliant blue, the sun's warmth was no match for the brisk breeze that sent shivers down her spine. She silently thanked herself for her California denim jacket, its worn fabric a barrier against the biting wind.
Since Billy had decided to skip school, she rode her bike to school.
SShe took in the simple buildings lining the street, their ground floors bustling with local businesses — grocery stores, jewelry shops, barber shops. To her surprise, a small movie theater stood at an intersection. Perfect. Now she had another place to spend her Saturday afternoons.
Lately, wandering through the city had become one of her favorite pastimes, filling her with an odd sense of nostalgia. Autumn wasn't her favorite season, but she had to admit — the way its colors transformed the city made everything feel more alive.
She had always been a keen observer. Within weeks, she had memorized most of her classmates' birthdays without even trying. Conversations, even distant ones, had a way of slipping into her awareness. All she had to do was listen.
It felt natural, the way she stumbled upon the Hawkins Public Library—almost as if it had been waiting for her. Lovely. Her curiosity stirred. Surely, within its walls lay a treasure trove of information about the town.
She propped her bike against the building's outer wall and stepped inside. The scent of aged paper wrapped around her, and the only sounds were the soft rustling of pages and the occasional muffled cough.
Wandering through the dimly lit aisles, she traced her fingers along the spines of neatly arranged books, organized by author and publication date. Stories of all kinds surrounded her—histories, thrillers, novels waiting to be discovered.
Perhaps she'd return later to lose herself in a good mystery. But for now, she had a different goal: the town's historical records.
After navigating through a maze of bookshelves, she found the historical section of the library, where there were books and documents, sources that told the story of Hawkins, its origins as a town, and its economic, social, and political development. Perhaps it could help.
Aurora walked slowly, clutching the selected books to her chest as her gaze wandered along the walls. Before she knew it, she had drifted into a study area — a quiet section with small lamps on each table and only two computers, both currently in use.
