The shadows of our town

chapter 7: unspoken words

The morning passed in a haze, a quiet weight hanging over Closeville High. As the bell rang for third period, Thomas and Carla made their way to chemistry class, the classroom buzzing with typical teenage chatter. The teacher, Mr. Howard, a balding man with thick glasses, was scribbling formulas on the board. His usual enthusiasm was nowhere to be found today—perhaps because, like everyone else in town, he knew the shadow of grief still loomed over Closeville.
"Hey, Thomas. You alright?" Mr. Howard asked as he approached Thomas's desk, his voice gentle, his expression filled with concern.
Thomas offered a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... you know. Trying to keep busy."
Mr. Howard nodded, a familiar look of understanding on his face. "I get it. It's not easy. If you ever need to talk, I'm here."
As the teacher moved on, Carla shot Thomas a brief, sympathetic glance. Her lips parted as if she were going to say something but stopped short. Instead, she settled into her seat beside him, the room's chatter continuing as though nothing had happened.
The grief had been lingering in the air for weeks now. It was hard for anyone to ignore the fact that two of their own, Samuel and Alisya, were gone. Even though the tragedy had occurred some time ago, it still weighed heavily on everyone—students, teachers, everyone in Closeville. It was as if no one could truly shake off the mourning, and everyone kept asking the same question: Are you okay? It was a question no one knew how to answer anymore.
The bell rang, signaling the start of class, but Thomas's mind wandered. He kept stealing glances at Carla, trying to push past the nervousness he felt every time their eyes met. The way she sat with him so easily, so comfortably, yet there was always this unspoken tension between them. His heart beat faster in her presence, but what could he do? Was it the grief, or was there something more? And did she feel the same way?
As he sat there, Thomas's thoughts flickered to memories of better days—the seven of them together before everything changed. He remembered the laughter in the park, the late nights by the lake, and the endless teasing that always kept things light. Samuel had been the life of the group, always making everyone laugh with his ridiculous jokes and antics. Alisya, with her radiant smile, had a way of making everything seem brighter, more hopeful.
Carla's voice broke through his thoughts. "Do you remember when we went to the lake that one summer? You, me, Sam, Aly, Billy, Adam, and Melissa. We had that huge bonfire, and Sam tried to cook burgers on a stick, but they all burned."
Thomas chuckled softly at the memory, the warmth of the moment pushing away the cold ache in his chest. "Yeah. I swear he was trying to make a new kind of charcoal burger. No one ate them, but we all laughed so hard. It's hard to believe that was just a few months ago."
Carla's eyes softened. "I miss them, Thomas. I miss everyone being... whole. It doesn't feel real, you know?"
"I know," he said quietly. "It doesn't. But we have to keep going. For them."
The class passed in a blur. As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, the group of five met up in the parking lot, their usual place of gathering. Adam, with his messy hair and ever-present energy, was already talking about hacking into the police database to get more information. "I'm telling you, we need to see what they've found. The police reports don't make sense. It's like they're covering something up."
Melissa, her eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep, frowned. "Are you sure that's safe? What if we get caught?"
Adam grinned mischievously. "Relax. I'm practically a wizard when it comes to tech. The police won't even know we're in there."
Billy, quiet as always, flicked through a stack of papers. He looked up with a strange expression. "I found something. It's in the woods... something connected to a local property. We should go check it out later tonight."
The group exchanged wary glances. "What do you mean?" Thomas asked, leaning in.
Billy handed over a piece of paper with a map scrawled on it, indicating an old estate near the woods. "This place has been abandoned for years. But there's something about it that doesn't sit right. We should check it out."
Carla's voice cut through the tension. "We'll go. But first, let's meet at my house and figure this all out."
Later that evening, they all gathered at Carla's house, their faces drawn with fatigue and lingering grief. Carla's living room, usually filled with laughter, now felt heavy with the weight of their loss. They sat around the coffee table, laptops and papers scattered everywhere as they combed through police files and old town records.
Adam worked furiously on his laptop, typing at lightning speed. "I got into the police system. Check this out," he said, his eyes scanning the screen. "It's all messed up. There's no solid evidence that a murderer even exists. The deaths of Sam and Aly were ruled as murders based on the brutality of the crimes, but there are no reports of anyone actually being caught... or even investigated properly."
Thomas stared at the screen, his heart sinking. "So, you're saying the police just assumed it was a human killer?"
"Exactly," Adam said, his voice tense. "It's like they didn't even bother looking for any other explanation. They just assumed it was some random person who did this, and now they've moved on."
Billy, who had been quietly scanning some old articles, looked up. "We've got to find out more. We're missing something big here, and I think that house Billy pointed out is where it all connects."
Carla stood up abruptly. "I'm sorry, I need a minute."
She walked up the stairs, leaving the group behind. Thomas hesitated, then stood and followed her.
When he reached Carla's room, she was sitting on the edge of her bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The moment he stepped in, she looked up, startled. "I didn't mean to... I just needed a break."
Thomas closed the door behind him, taking a few steps toward her. "Hey, it's okay. We're all a mess right now. I don't know how we're supposed to deal with everything we've learned, but we're in this together."
Carla nodded, her voice shaky. "I just... I'm so tired of pretending like I'm okay. I'm not. I don't know how to keep going sometimes."
Thomas took a seat beside her, his heart aching at the vulnerability in her eyes. "You don't have to pretend. We're all hurting, but we'll get through it. Together."
For a moment, they sat in silence, the tension between them palpable. Then, almost without thinking, Thomas reached over and took her hand. The touch was simple, but it felt like something deeper, something unspoken. They both looked at each other, their faces inches apart, but neither spoke. They were afraid. Afraid of saying too much, too soon.
Carla took a deep breath and pulled her hand away. "We should get back to everyone else," she whispered.
Thomas nodded, standing up and offering a hand to help her up. "Yeah. Let's finish this."
They walked back downstairs together, both knowing that something had shifted in that brief moment—something neither of them were ready to acknowledge yet, but something undeniable.
When they returned to the living room, the group was already gathering their things, preparing to head out for the night. It was time to confront whatever truth lay hidden in the darkness. They were close—so close—but Thomas couldn't shake the feeling that whatever they uncovered would change everything.
As they piled into cars and headed toward the woods, the cool night air biting at their skin, Thomas felt Carla's presence beside him more than ever. This investigation, their quest for answers, had brought them closer. But with that closeness, an unspoken tension lingered, and Thomas wasn't sure if he was ready for what came next—whether it was the truth about the Shadow Killer, or the truth about how he felt for Carla.
But for now, they had a mission. And that was all that mattered.