The air smelled of pine resin and rain as Clara stepped off the bus, her boots crunching on gravel. The town of Silver Hollow hadn’t changed—same crooked sidewalks, same flickering streetlamp casting long shadows across the diner’s parking lot. She’d…
Clara’s boots crunched over gravel as she pulled her coat tighter, the wind slicing through the collar. The lighthouse stood at the edge of the world, its white paint peeling like sunburned skin. She hadn’t spoken to her aunt since…
The first time Clara saw the lighthouse, it was shrouded in fog, its white tower bleeding into the gray sky like a ghost. She stood at the edge of the dock, her boots soaked from the tide, and felt the…
The first time she saw him again, the sea was a blade of glass beneath the sun. Mira stood at the edge of the dock, her boots sinking into the wet wood as the wind tugged at her coat. The…
The first time Clara saw Daniel since the breakup, the café was thick with the scent of burnt coffee and unresolved tension. He stood near the counter, his leather jacket creaking as he leaned against the register, watching her with…
The first time she saw him, Clara was kneading dough in the bakery’s early morning hush, the scent of yeast thick in the air like a promise. The bell above the door jingled, and she turned, flour still clinging to…
The air smelled of rust and pine when Mira found the first bone. She knelt in the dirt, her fingers brushing the jagged edge of a femur, and wondered if it had been there since the mine closed in 1947.…
The first time Clara saw the lighthouse, it was veiled in mist, its white stone silhouette blurred against the gray sky. She stood at the edge of the cliff, her boots sinking into the damp earth, as waves clawed at…
The attic smelled of dust and forgotten things. I’d never been up here before, not really. Mom’s voice echoed in my head—”You’ll find what you need when you’re ready.” But I wasn’t ready. Not for this. The boards groaned beneath…
The air smelled like rust and wet earth when Lila found the journal. She’d been digging through the attic of her grandmother’s house, searching for old photos, when her fingers brushed against the leather cover. It was cracked, the edges…
Mara’s boots crunched over frost-brittle twigs as she followed the narrow path, her breath a pale cloud in the predawn air. The forest around her was a cathedral of shadow and silence, branches skeletal against the indigo sky. She hadn’t…
Clara’s fingers pressed into the dough, kneading until her palms burned. The bakery’s ovens hummed, filling the air with the scent of cinnamon and toasted almonds. She had always found comfort in the rhythm of it—the slap of flour, the…
The first time she saw him, Mara was kneading dough in the dim light of the bakery’s early morning hours. The scent of rosemary and warm flour clung to the air, mingling with the distant hum of a guitar drifting…
Clara stepped off the ferry, the salt-heavy air stinging her cheeks as she pulled her coat tighter. The dock creaked under her boots, a sound she hadn’t heard in ten years but recognized instantly. The town hadn’t changed—same weathered planks,…
Mara’s boots crunched over frozen gravel as she pulled her jacket tighter, the wind slicing through the thin fabric. Jax jogged to catch up, his breath visible in the pale afternoon air. “You sure about this?” he asked, glancing at…