"Are the communists behind this?"
"No."
"So our government lied?"
"Our government is behind this!"
Did Scarlett think she would be involved in a huge...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Time cast a spell on you. But you won't forget me." -Fleetwood Mac ｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡* ∞*⍋⋆*❅｡
It seemed that Blake and Scarlett beat the cops to Fred's house. His street was still empty when Blake parked. "Which one is his?" Blake asked, eyeing the countless doors questioningly.
"You don't remember?" Scarlett asked. To which Blake blew a raspberry and threw her hands up in desperation. Why should she know? She had been there once. "Check the mailboxes," Scarlett answered with a dazzling smile that made Blake want to put her head through the windshield.
Scarlett jogged across the street to start on that side of Cherry Street. She scanned the mail boxes for the name 'Benson'. Across from her Blake did the same, though much more begrudgingly. Blake's knuckles were white around her own walkie-talkie, she was glad she remembered to bring it. It had been a birthday present from Steve, who was trying to put Blake forward as the children's second go-to adult with Scarlett gone.
Scarlett tucked some brown hair behind her ear as she leaned down to properly squint at one of the faded names on a yellow mailbox. With a sigh she realised it was not the Benson house and moved on to the next one. She really hoped they'd find something, anything, otherwise this would be a colossal waste of time.
Deciding to not swell on the chance that she was wasting time, Scarlett moved on to the next house. There was no name on the mailbox and Scarlett peered at the house, gauging wether that house could belong to the Bensons.
"Here!" Blake shouted, hands cupped around her mouth. The woman waved her friend over. The house wasn't odd in any sense. The two friends stood side by side, hands on their hips as they examined the abode. "Now what?" Blake asked, she squinted due to the reflection of the sun.
Neither had thought that far ahead to be entirely honest.
But it seemed luck was on their side, the door opened. Out walked a woman with wispy fried hair. She had narrow, near rodent like features. "Who are you?" The woman asked, standing in her doorway as she held the door defensively half in front of her.
Before either young woman could answer, a child, no older than 13 biked past the house. The child screamed 'murderer' and threw an egg at the front door.
The woman in the door hollered after the girl before giving up with a tired sigh. She turned to Scarlett and Blake. "Please just leave us alone." The door slammed shut and the young women shared a look.
"Who the fuck is a murderer?" Blake asked with a frown, she eyed the dripping egg yolk.
Scarlett frowned before the previous year resurfaced in her memories. "Wasn't there an accident where a kid died?" She frowned as she spoke, trying her best to recall the headline. "Uhhh, some teen was hit by a car and died. Wasn't that Fred?" Scarlett asked again.
