The Heights

Prologue

Prologue,

Whitewater Heights, 1984

The town was peaceful. The town was welcoming. It was the kind of town visitors could enjoy the Inn's bed and breakfast, and wave back at the overly polite townsmen as they went on morning jogs.

The town was perfect. The town was lost in time. The baby blue Inn, the concrete clinic, the maroon shophouse, and the pastel green town hall lined Main Street of this picture-perfect small town. Nestled in the mountains of Northern California, Whitewater Heights was a hidden gem to the outside world.

Named after Whitewater river, Whitewater Heights was a secluded small-town paradise for its townsmen. Whitewater's inhabitants were simply raised, lived, and died without ever stepping beyond the town line. I hate this town. Kris thought to herself.

Her husband, Eric Hall, an upcoming development mogul from Asia, chose this pathetic town for the company's latest endeavor. Kris had to leave her lavish Java Mansion for a tiny townhouse on the edge of town. She especially missed her daisies in the garden.

The move was sudden and poorly planned. Her husband gave her two weeks to clear out the entire mansion and move halfway across the world for his next "project". Kris was used to Eric flying here and there and everywhere for his little "projects", she just never expected to one day follow.

"My father is counting on me," Eric screamed, " and besides, there is nothing left for us here, Kris. We're leaving in two weeks, better pack up the hundreds of Chanel purses you have."

In their marriage, his words were always final. He would make the decisions, and she would just follow. Avoiding a more colossal argument, Kris simply agreed and moved halfway across the world to join her husband in Whitewater Heights.

Eric's company, Hall's Inc, focused primarily on real estate development — turning peaceful villages to shopping centres and gorgeous landscapes to office buildings. He had had a few jobs in Singapore, one project in London, and another in Shanghai. Nothing was as ambitious as "the Heights" project — as he liked to call it. From listening in to meetings and conference calls, Kris learned that the Mayor of Whitewater Heights was hiring Eric to turn their quaint little town to the next San Francisco.

"What about our life here," Kris asked, a few weeks before they moved.

"What life," Eric sarcastically remarked, "you mean Victoria? Your one friend and her incessantly annoying twin girls that are always running around my manor."

"You know why she's always here," Kris reminded him, referring to her best friend's recent separation from her first husband.

"I don't give a rat's ass that she's alone now," Eric said, "and I would feel sorry for her kids, if they weren't busy staining my white carpet with mud from the garden. They seem fine."

Kris always hated how cold Eric acted when he was stressed. Often, he would even get aggressive with her. Eric's temper was simply unmatched.

During Kris' last pregnancy, they would get into wildly horrendous screaming matches about every little thing. Eric would come home and impatiently scream at her about dinner plans. Eric would wake up hungover and angry at Kris for letting him drink so much. Eric would constantly threaten Kris when she complained about morning sickness, make sure you don't lose this one too, he would always say. Eventually, the doctors concluded that the miscarriage was due to extreme stress. After that, Eric seemed to just grow crueler.

That's why Victoria and her girls meant so much to Kris. They represented the family unit Kris always wanted — just a mother and her children.

"Will you please come with us," Kris begged Victoria, before the move.