a deadly storm, an unsolved disappearance, and a small town brimming with secrecy;
an outcast girl, a boy who only knows how to hide, and the world against them;
what could go wrong?
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Dawn breaks and spills the early summer sunlight on a restless Boo.
After her frustration peaked the night before, she'd stayed holed in her room until the coast was clear. Then she'd packed a bag and drove to her apartment, spending her inaugural night there in a bed with only one pillow and a skimpy blanket. She was incredibly, indescribably tired from expelling all her pent-up emotion in one dramatic burst, but any sleep she got wasn't enough.
Now, blinking into the unabated sun pouring in through the uncovered window, she feels the weight of her exhaustion. She groggily checks the time on her phone: 7:06 in the morning.
Below the time, her call log shows several missed calls from Nana, as well as a few random texts from Lori asking for money. Boo locks the screen and rolls over onto her stomach, clamping the pillow down over her head to try and block out the stifling morning light.
No sooner have her eyes fluttered shut than the doorbell rings and shatters the quiet morning.
"Lord have mercy," Boo grumbles into her sheets. She doesn't move a muscle, hoping the asshole ringing the doorbell at seven in the morning will take the hint and leave.
The bell chimes again, two times in short succession as her mystery guest grows impatient. Boo releases an ungodly noise of annoyance and tumbles out of bed, not caring how hellish she looks as she stomps to the front door and aggressively flings it open.
"What the f-" Her tongue nearly falls out of her mouth as she comes face-to-face with Martha. "Oh, hi, Nana."
"Good morning, Melita," Martha says genially. She holds up her hands to display the covered dish she's holding. "May I come in?"
Boo debates internally on how rude it'd be to slam the door shut. The hopeful look in her grandmother's eyes is enough to convince her that maybe she should make amends rather than burn more bridges. With a click of her tongue, she opens the front door wider and steps aside.
Martha grimaces as she steps inside; the living room is an eyesore, decorated only by a chaotic assortment of sealed boxes. "Lord, child, you need to organize this place."
"Why are you here, Nana?" Boo sighs, rubbing her eyes wearily as she pushes the door shut. It's too early to play the small talk game.
"I brought you breakfast," Martha says with a smile. "And an apology."
Boo chews on the inside of her lip and leans against the closed door. She nods once, gesturing for Martha to continue.
"I'm sorry about how you've been feeling," Martha begins, and already Boo doesn't like this apology. "I try very hard to make you feel a part of this town as much as I can, but I can only do so much. But you're right, we can't change people's opinions if they don't want to change them."
Boo opens her mouth to speak but Martha holds up a hand to stop her. Boo's speech melts away as a yawn emerges instead.
"However, my job is to protect you and I will continue to do so. You may not like the way I do things but I have my reasons. Next time you're feeling upset, we will talk about it like adults instead of yelling and crying like children."
