⸻ ❛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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WHEN THE IRON BARS CREAKED OPE IN PROTEST, Hargrove, Wheeler, and Buckley swallowed hard, feeling in their bones that they were stepping into a prison.
The filthy stone walls, untouched by sunlight for decades, were steeped in the scent of screams — screams thick with agony from those who had suffered, forgotten, down there in the dark.
With every step they took — the click of the girls' heels striking the cold floor in a steady rhythm that echoed through the shadowed halls — they felt themselves drawn deeper into an air thick with a nauseating stench, sharp enough to claw at the stomachs of the nervous girls.
Rory turned her head to the left for a quick glance at the faces of those who lived here, people who had long since lost their souls. They remained locked in their cells, buried in this windowless dungeon. People didn't leave here better than they came in. In fact, these people would never leave at all — they were considered far too dangerous.
At the end of the corridor waited their guest — the one person they hoped could give them the answers to the curse looming over the town.
A high-pitched, grating sound met them. Victor sat with his back to them in a metal chair, dragging his fingernails across the surface of the metal table. Rory couldn't stop the shiver that rippled through her shoulders, earning a quick, disapproving glance from Nancy, standing to her left.
"Have fun," said the bored guard, who had just spent the past minute listing all the things they were not allowed to do with the prisoner, before walking away.
Oh, we will, Rory's restless mind whispered. But there was no smile on her face now — only the tension of the moment. Before she could open her mouth, the ever-brave Nancy did.
"Victor? My name is Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. And this is..."
Wow. Using their real names. Wild. However, it was the best way to build trust with their interviewee. Rory had to admit, Nance knew more about this than anyone — it was her job, after all.
"Robin Buckley," Robin finished, her voice tilting into a question.
"And I'm Rory Hargrove," Rory said, her tone lower, already aware her voice would echo down the entire hall.
"We have some questions—"
"I don't talk to reporters. Hatch knows that!" Victor's sudden roar shook the tense girls to their cores, cutting off Robin's trembling voice.
Okay, this wasn't going to work. Sure, the whole setup — and the fact they were probably doing something illegal — had their nerves on edge, but if they wanted this to work, they couldn't let Victor intimidate them. And polite small talk would only push him further away.
