TW: The topic of infertility and the struggle to conceive is briefly mentioned in this chapter. In no way have I intended to hurt anyone, but if this may be too sensitive for you, please look for the black asterisks (*)
The longest walk home that any parent will ever take is the one after their child has "run" ahead of them. - Unknown
As I stood outside the church, watching the mourners gather for Miranda's funeral, a heavy weight settled in my chest. The air was thick with grief and regret, swirling around us like a shroud.
I could hear snippets of conversation around me as people murmured condolences and shared memories of the girl who had once walked among us. But I felt disconnected from it all, as if I were watching from a distance.
I couldn't help but think back to our days in school, where Miranda ruled the hallways with an iron fist. She was one of the popular girls, always surrounded by her posse of followers who hung on her every word. I wasn't part of that crowd; I was more of a loner, preferring to spend my time lost in books rather than gossip.
Fiddling with the hem of my black dress, I looked around at everyone who'd gathered already.
The service didn't start for another half hour, but my mom insisted we arrive early.
After a few seconds of scanning the room, I located Jon at the front, where the casket would be. He stood with his parents, shifting his weight between his feet as his parents conversed with Miranda's mother, likely offering their condolences.
Jon must have felt my eyes on him as he raised his head, his eyes finding mine, a large smile plastering on his face, showcasing his gorgeous dimples.
"Hey mom," I said as she paused her conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher. "I'm going to go talk to Jon."
"Alright sweetheart. I'll find our seats when I'm done here."
"Okay. Bye Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher. Have a nice evening."
As I walked away I heard Mrs. Thatcher say, "Your daughter has grown up to be a wonderful, and beautiful, young woman. You two did a god job with her."
I smiled, half from the comment and half because Jon was walking to meet me halfway down the aisle.
Just before Jon and I were actually face to face, a long mane of white-blonde hair smacked me across the face.
Only two people in town have hair that vibrant; Kirsty and her mother, Karen.
However, judging by how their back was to me and the shorter stature, I knew it was Kirsty.
Her icy blue eyes bore into mine with a look of pure malice as she sneered at me. "Look who it is," she taunted. "Little Harley Masterson, always sticking her nose where it doesn't belong." I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to muster up some courage. "What do you want, Kirsty?" She smirked wickedly. "Oh nothing much...just to remind you to stay out of things that don't concern you."
I opened my mouth, completely ready to confront her when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Judging by the hair colour, I knew it was Kirsty Sr.
"Harley Masterson," she greeted me coolly, her eyes piercing through me. "I hoped you would heed my advice." I felt a chill run down my spine as she circled around me like a predator stalking its prey. Her words held an ominous tone that sent shivers down my spine. "Why are you so concerned about what I'm doing?" I demanded, trying to mask my unease. "What game are you playing?" Karen chuckled darkly, sending a wave of dread washing over me. "Ahh," she mused cryptically. "I see your mother still hasn't told you."
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The Vanishing Girls Of Willow Creek (Willow Creek, #1)
रहस्य / थ्रिलर*Editing* 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 t...
