Havenbrook was smaller than Ridgehaven, quieter. The roads were lined with simple storefronts, a few diners, and mom-and-pop shops with hand-painted signs, their colors faded by time and weather. A single traffic light blinked lazily at an intersection, barely needed. Pedestrians strolled along the sidewalks, some carrying bags from the local market, others pausing in doorways to chat. A boy pedaled past on a rust-speckled bicycle, his jacket flapping in the wind. It all looked normal. Peaceful. But Avanya knew better. She could feel the undercurrent of unease, like just out of sight.
She kept driving, fingers tapping absently against the wheel, eyes scanning every alley and side street. The town might have seemed unremarkable, but appearances could lie. Then she saw it. "PINE CREST MOTEL."
