The Night It Burned
They called it an accident. A faulty gas line. Tragic, they said. But Evelyn Locke remembered the sound of the lock clicking on the outside of the cellar door. She remembered the heat blistering her skin, the screams clawing up her throat as the flames kissed the floorboards above her.
She remembered Claire's face her best friend watching from the hallway, eyes wide, unmoving.
The Whitmore Estate burned for hours that night. It lit up the cliffs like a funeral pyre. Evelyn had escaped only because the fire had mercy when people didn't. But no one ever asked how she survived. They just assumed she hadn't.
So she vanished.
Until now.
Chapter one : The train pulled away with a long shriek, leaving behind only the scent of rust and rain. Evelyn Locke stood on the cracked platform, clutching a black duffel bag in one hand and a file folder in the other one filled with names, dates, secrets.
The people on her list had one thing in common: they had watched her burn.
The town hadn't changed much. Crescent Bay still wore its charm like makeup over bruises quaint bookstores, manicured hedges, flower boxes spilling over with color. But Evelyn wasn't fooled. Beneath it all, the rot remained.
She walked down Main Street with deliberate steps, drawing glances. Some swore they saw a ghost.
Outside the old Whitmore Pharmacy, a woman stepped out. Her blonde hair was shorter now, sharper like the words Evelyn remembered her spitting years ago.
Claire Whitmore.
Evelyn smiled, slow and poisonous.
Claire didn't recognize her yet. "Can I help you?"
"I'm just passing through," Evelyn said, her voice different, her accent dulled by years away. "This used to be my hometown."
Claire's polite smile faltered. "Really? What was your name?"
Evelyn looked her in the eye. "Eva Lynn Carter."
Not a lie. Not exactly. Just rearranged truth.
Claire's eyes narrowed. "You look… familiar."
"Maybe in another life."
As Evelyn walked away, Claire stood frozen, watching her go like someone who had just seen a ghost. Because maybe she had.