Wewereliarsfanfic Stories

Beechwood Island has always been called magical. The Sinclairs prefer it that way, gilded, perfect, untouchable. But magic has a habit of disguising rot. Before the fires. Before the fractures. Before the end. There was Summer Sixteen. This is not the polished version of the Sinclair story. This is the story of the boy who was given everything, and the girl who was never meant to belong, and how Beechwood began to crack long before anyone smelled smoke.