Grief is the last act of love we can give to those we loved. Where there is deep grief, there was deep love - Unknown
Finally, the end of the school day arrived.
Jon and I waited for all the students to rush out before gathering our things and beginning the trek to our lockers.
"What are we watching tonight?" Jon asked, taking my textbooks from me before I could protest.
"I can carry my own books, you know?" He simply shrugged. "Anyway, there's a documentary on the Black Dahlia tonight. I've been dying to watch it."
"You've been dying to watch it?" He snickered.
The look on my face clearly said, 'Really?'
"I know, I know. Bad joke." He chuckled to himself. "Bakery first?"
"Of course. Do you not know me?"
After school, we went to my mom's bakery. But on the weekends before our crime marathon, we'd stock up on tons of baked goods.
Whatever mom didn't sell, she'd bring home for us to pig out on.
Of course, we still buy things from time to time.
We finally reached the bakery, and he opened the door, allowing me in first.
Oooh, what a gentleman! No, I'm just kidding. Jon's always been super courteous, carrying my things for me, opening doors, and overall just being there.
"Hey mom." "Hey, Mrs. Masterson." We greeted my mom, who stood in the front, dealing with a customer.
"Hey, sweethearts," she said, walking over to us after helping her customer and pulling up a chair. "So, what's this weekend's crime?" She teased playfully, knowing full well that our idea of fun often involved binge-watching true crime documentaries.
"Black Dahlia," Jon answered.
"Ooo. Sounds fun. Well, enjoy. Do you two want anything?"
I looked at Jonathan.
1!2!3!
"Maple pecan doughnut!" We said in unison.
My mom made an array of delectable treats, but her maple pecan doughnut was hands-down one of our favourites.
The sweet, glistening maple-flavoured caramel on a cinnamon doughnut, topped with roasted pecans. It was pure bliss in every bite. Mmm, my mouth is watering just thinking about it.
She chuckled. "Coming right up."
As she went to get our doughnuts, Jon turned to me. "Have you asked your mom if she knew or heard anything about the disappearances?"
I shook my head. "With Miranda's disappearance, I kind of forgot. Plus, I only found out about them."
"Do you think we should ask her?"
I shrugged. "It's worth a shot."
Just then, my mom returned with our doughnuts. "Here you go."
"Hey mom?" She turned to me. "Jon and I were doing research for a project we're doing for school. We came across a ton of disappearances that happened here. Over one hundred women and girls... gone."
She didn't answer straight away, instead fidgeting with her hands.
Finally, she took a deep breath and looked at us. "I did... know about the disappearances."
"Why would you and dad stay here?" I asked.
"Your father and I had a dream. Mine was the bakery. His was his bike shop. Plus, when we found out I was pregnant with you, we wanted to raise you where we grew up."
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The Vanishing Girls Of Willow Creek (Willow Creek, #1)
Mystery / Thriller*Edited* In the small town of Willow Creek, nestled among the rolling hills and whispering trees, lies a dark secret that has haunted its residents for generations. Over the years, more than a hundred young women and girls have vanished without a tr...