The rain fell in relentless sheets, turning the dirt path into a slick ribbon of mud. Lena Voss tightened her coat against the chill, her boots squelching with every step. The town of Black Hollow hadn’t changed in twenty years—except for the way the air tasted, like rust and pine resin. She remembered the last time she’d stood on this road, ten years old, clutching her mother’s hand as they fled the hollow’s edge. Now, she was back, driven by a single letter: *They’re coming for you.*
The B&B sat at the end of the road, its red paint peeling like sunburned skin. Lena pushed open the creaking door, the bell above it jingling a hollow note. The lobby smelled of mothballs and burnt coffee. A woman in her sixties stood behind the counter, her silver hair pinned tight. Her eyes flicked to Lena’s suitcase, then back to her face.
“You’re not from around here,” the woman said, not as a question but a statement.
Lena nodded. “I’m here about the fire.” The words felt heavy, like stones in her mouth.
The woman’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That was a long time ago. You should’ve stayed away.” She turned, disappearing into the shadows of the hallway.
Lena followed, her boots echoing against the warped floorboards. The room at the end of the hall was cold, the window cracked open. A single bed, a desk, and a photograph on the wall: a group of children standing in front of the town’s old mill, their faces blurred. Lena traced the edge of the frame, her fingers brushing against something rough. A name carved into the wood: *Mara.*
She left the room, her pulse quickening. The letter had mentioned Mara. A girl who’d vanished a decade ago, her disappearance never solved. Lena’s own mother had been one of the last to see her.
Outside, the rain had stopped. A figure stood at the edge of the woods, motionless. Lena squinted, but the trees swallowed them whole. She turned back to the B&B, her mind racing. The town was a puzzle, and she was holding the missing piece.
—
The diner on Main Street was empty except for a man in a faded leather jacket, stirring a cup of coffee. Lena slid into the booth across from him, her eyes scanning his face. He looked up, his gaze sharp.
“You’re not from around here,” he said, echoing the B&B owner’s words.
“I’m looking for answers,” Lena replied. “About the fire. About Mara.”
The man’s smile was thin. “You don’t know what you’re digging into. Black Hollow doesn’t like outsiders poking around.”
“Then why is someone sending me letters?” Lena countered. “Why now?”
The man leaned back, his fingers drumming the table. “You remember the night of the fire?”
Lena’s throat tightened. “I was ten. I remember the smoke, the screams…”
“You weren’t there,” he said quietly. “You were in the mill, hiding. You saw what happened.”
The words hit her like a punch. She had no memory of that night, only fragments: the smell of burning wood, the sound of footsteps running. But the man’s eyes held something she couldn’t ignore—truth.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Name’s Jace. I was there. I tried to save her.”
Lena’s breath caught. “Mara?”
He nodded. “She was my sister. And you were the only one who saw what really happened.”
—
The woods were darker than Lena remembered, the trees towering like sentinels. She followed a narrow path, her flashlight cutting through the gloom. The air smelled of damp earth and decay. Somewhere in the distance, a bird screeched, its cry echoing off the trees.
She found the cabin at dusk, its roof sagging, windows broken. A rusted gate creaked as she pushed it open. Inside, the air was thick with dust. On the wall, a series of photographs: children playing, then a single image of Mara standing alone in the woods. A note beneath it: *She knew too much.*
A sound behind her. Lena spun, flashlight trembling. A figure stood in the doorway, their face obscured by shadow.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the voice said, low and gravelly.
“Who are you?” Lena demanded.
The figure stepped forward, revealing a man with a scar running from his temple to his jaw. “I’m the one who kept your mother safe. And now, I’m the one who’ll make sure you don’t uncover what’s buried.”
Lena backed toward the door, her mind racing. The man’s words confirmed what she’d suspected: her mother hadn’t just left Black Hollow. She’d been hiding from something.
“What happened that night?” Lena asked, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest.
The man’s eyes darkened. “You don’t want to know.”
But Lena did. She had to.
—
The storm broke as Lena ran, her boots pounding against the muddy trail. The man’s words echoed in her mind: *What’s buried.* She didn’t know what she’d find, but she couldn’t stop now. The truth was too close.
She reached the mill, its skeletal frame looming against the stormy sky. The door hung off its hinges, a gaping mouth. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of smoke and old wood. A single beam of light cut through the darkness, illuminating a table covered in documents.
Lena’s hands trembled as she flipped through the papers: names, dates, records of disappearances stretching back decades. Mara’s name was there, along with others—children who’d vanished, their fates unknown. At the bottom of the pile, a photo of her mother, younger and wide-eyed, standing beside a group of men in dark coats.
A noise behind her. Lena spun, flashlight shaking. The man stood in the doorway, his face unreadable.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” he said again.
“Why?” she asked, her voice raw. “Why hide the truth?”
He stepped closer, his eyes searching hers. “Because some secrets are better left buried. But you’ve already dug too deep.”
Lena’s heart pounded. She had the evidence, but what would it cost her? The storm raged outside, the mill creaking like a living thing. She didn’t have much time.
—
The next morning, Lena stood at the edge of the woods, the wind tugging at her coat. The town of Black Hollow had changed—she could feel it in the air, in the way the trees whispered secrets she might never understand. But she had what she needed: proof of the truth, a map of the past that couldn’t be erased.
As she walked back toward the B&B, her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number: *They know.*
Lena paused, her breath catching. The game wasn’t over. But she was ready.
Black Hollow had tried to bury its past. Now, it would have to face the consequences.
