It has been a year since Annalise Montgomery lost her fifteen year old sister Lilly in the middle of a sunny day when she was waiting in a parking lot.
Annalise takes the case into her control when the police are empty handed. No leads, no traces, n...
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They're all talking to each other about random things. Family, work, cars. Wherever the subject goes. But it changes when Scott Walker approaches them, with his hand still on my back, they stop.
They all seem around the same age, between their early thirties and late forties. A few of the eyes move to me, but don't ask anything yet.
"There's good ol' Scotty boy." One of the men clasps his hand on Blondie's shoulder and gives it a squeeze. All of this family seem to adore him. "Would you look at that, Scotty bringing someone other than Reggie over."
The man has the same beer in his hand that Mark inside had downed when Sheriff Walker marched into the kitchen. This man seems like the loud one of the bunch.
"Good, Reggie can keep his fingers out of my beer." Another female says this. She's sitting in a camp chair with a carton of beer at her feet.
Scott starts a humorous argument with the two, claiming that his best friend doesn't always drink everyone's beers. At the same time that starts, a different lady stands from a camp chair and walks towards me.
She holds out her hand, implying that she wants me to shake it. I do out of obligation. "I'm Angela, one of Warner's sisters." Talulah's husband must have a lot of siblings.
"I'm Scott's friend, Annalise." Angela let's go of my hand as she shoves it into her shorts pocket. Blondie is talking with some of the other people, but he stays beside me. I know he's half listening to his own conversation, half listening to mine.
"Nice to meet you." I nod my head in return. "How long have you and Scott been friends for?"
I don't necessarily like small talk. Everyone here is so much like Scott. Even though most of them are on Talulah's husband side- it's hard to tell. All very hands on people, affectionate, talkative, persistent.
"A couple weeks." In reality, I have no clue how long it has been. It feels like a lifetime considering I spent so long being cruel and trying to avoid Scott Walker.
"Would you like a beer? I have cold ones ready to crack." I was right about Scott having one ear on each conversation. I feel his fingers move against my back.
"Thank you, but I'm underage." As soon as Sheriff Walker catches me with alcohol in my hand, she'll throw me straight back into a cell.
Angela is surprised to hear my words, her eyebrows raising and lips parting. Maybe it's that fact that I'm here with Scott- who is of age to drink, that made her think I was.
