1970

Chapter eight: Morning Lights

The kitchen was already warm with morning light when Valerie padded downstairs, drawn by the smell of coffee and the quiet sounds of movement. Mr. Ayuluk stood at the stove, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the window. He turned at her approach, smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"Early riser?" he asked, voice soft enough not to carry upstairs where the others still slept. "Coffee's fresh."

Valerie nodded, grateful for the familiar routine of reaching for a mug from the cabinet. The Ayuluk kitchen felt more like home some days than her own house, with its cheerful yellow curtains and the ever-present warmth of the old wood stove. Plants crowded every windowsill—Husky's doing, though he'd deny it if asked.

"Trouble sleeping?" Mr. Ayuluk didn't look at her as he asked, focused on flipping pancakes with practiced ease. His accent lilted the words slightly, making them gentle somehow.

"Just... thinking." Valerie wrapped her hands around the warm mug, studying the swirls of cream dissolving into dark coffee. "Sometimes it feels like everything's my responsibility, you know? Making sure Corbat's okay, keeping the clinic running when Mom's busy with emergency calls, trying to..." She trailed off, unsure how to explain the weight that seemed to press heavier with each passing day.

Mr. Ayuluk hummed thoughtfully, sliding a plate of pancakes across the counter to her. "Heavy load for young shoulders," he said simply. "But you're not carrying it alone. Not here."

Something in his tone made her look up. He was watching her with that steady gaze that reminded her so much of Husky—like he could see right through to the heart of things but wouldn't push. Just offer quiet support, a safe harbor in the storm.

"Thanks," she whispered, meaning more than just the pancakes.

The floor creaked overhead, followed by the familiar sound of Husky's footsteps on the stairs. He appeared in the doorway, hair sticking up at impossible angles, wearing an old t-shirt that had probably seen better days sometime last decade. Without a word, he dropped into the chair beside Valerie, shoulder pressing warm against hers.

His father set another plate of pancakes in front of him, ruffled his son's already chaotic hair, and disappeared onto the back porch with his own coffee. The morning light painted everything in soft gold, making the kitchen feel like a place outside of time.

Valerie felt Husky shift slightly, taking a breath like he was about to speak. But before he could, the peaceful moment shattered with the thunder of multiple feet on the stairs.

"Oh my god, are those pancakes?" Hailey burst into the kitchen, purple-streaked hair a wild halo around her head. "Like, actual homemade pancakes?"

"Keep your voice down," Loch grumbled, following close behind. "Some of us are still mostly asleep."

Quinn brought up the rear, his journal already in hand. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, suggesting he hadn't slept much at all. He claimed his usual spot at the counter, flipping through pages covered in his cramped handwriting.

"So," Hailey said around a mouthful of pancake, "about today. I was thinking—"

"Swallow first," Valerie and Loch said in unison.

Hailey rolled her eyes but complied. "I was thinking we should start at the bend where the old mill used to be. That's where most of the stories come from, right? Where everyone goes-" she trails off, eyes flickering over to Quinn.

The kitchen went quiet. Quinn's hands had stilled on his journal, knuckles white where he gripped the pages.

"Quinn," Valerie said softly, "we don't have to—"

"No." His voice was rough but steady. "No, Hailey's right. That's where we need to start. That's where..." He swallowed hard. "That's where everything started last time."

Husky's shoulder pressed harder against Valerie's. "We stick together," he said, the usual teasing note absent from his voice. "No wandering off, no splitting up. And at the first sign of anything weird—"

"Define weird," Loch interrupted. "Because with this group, that's a pretty low bar."

The tension broke slightly as Hailey threw a piece of pancake at her. Loch caught it in her mouth, grinning triumphantly.

"I mean it," Husky insisted. "First sign of trouble, we're out. All of us." He looked pointedly at Quinn, who nodded slowly.

"What about Corbat?" Valerie asked, suddenly remembering her brother sleeping upstairs.

"Dad can watch him," Husky said. "He's got the day off anyway." He paused, then added more quietly, "And Val? If you want to stay here too..."

She shook her head. "No. No, I need to see this through. Whatever this is."

The morning light had shifted, casting long shadows across the kitchen floor. Outside, a wind chime tinkled softly—one of Husky's mom's old ones, still hanging after all these years. The sound seemed to carry something with it, a whisper just below hearing.

"Meet back here in an hour?" Hailey suggested, already gathering her things. "I need to change and grab my camera."

They dispersed gradually, the comfortable chaos of breakfast giving way to the weight of what they were planning. Valerie lingered in the kitchen, helping Mr. Ayuluk with the dishes while Husky walked the others out.

"Whatever you kids are up to today," Mr. Ayuluk said as she handed him the last plate, "be careful, yes? Some stories..." He trailed off, looking past her toward the window. "Some stories have teeth."

Before Valerie could ask what he meant, Husky returned, Quinn's keys jingling in his hand, the red-headed teen shaking his head as he got up from his perch. "Ready?"

She dried her hands on a dishcloth, trying to ignore the way her heart had started beating faster. "Yeah. Ready."

The morning sun painted everything in deceptively cheerful colors as they stepped outside, but Valerie couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere, just beyond sight, shadows were gathering.