Scarlett had no idea how many hours she and Eliot spent over coffee at Hawthorne Café talking about strange, unsettling things that they didn't understand. Afternoons seeped into the evenings and something began settling within her chest, like restlessness. Secrets and half-truths hung around them like weights and something that started as an adventure became too big to handle on either of them.
Closing her conversation with him, Scarlett wanted to know more than just the answers she would receive. She needed to know more; she needed a guide who could understand the heart of Hawthorne-not its quaint attractions but its buried forgotten history. Her mind flew to Rebecca, that steady presence from her childhood years. She was one of her mother's closest friends; that kind of person who doesn't say much but gets you at peace. Wisdom in Rebecca was a subtle thing always there but unaggressive.
Rebecca's cot lay toward the edge of town, pushed into creeping woods that seem to press on the borders of Hawthorne. The air about it reeked of damp earth and smoky wood. The house itself was ivied and silent. It sat in the soft tinge of the early eve inviting, yet darkly mysterious behind the warm glint of spill from its windows. It was as if this untouched world by time, confidences shared in total secrecy from exposure.
Scarlett tapped on the wooden door, catching her breath in her chest. Then, after a moment, it creaked open, and there stood Rebecca—older now, with silver threads woven into her hair, but her sharp eyes still gleaming with that same knowing spark. She smiled warmly, a smile that spoke of years of understanding and the comfort of home.
"Too long," Scarlett said, her voice full of both surprise and relief.
"Yes, it has," Rebecca said quietly, her smile never flickering. "Come in."
There was a crackle from a small fire burning softly in the hearth, sending shadows like tongues across the booklined walls with newspapers, old journals, and papers stacked about them. It was as if one stepped into another world, where everything else was so far away, shrouded by the weight of history. There was a couch beside the fire, swamped in quilts - they seemed to invite Scarlett to come and sit and lie down there. The whispery boil of the kettle enhanced the warmth of the room.
Scarlett hesitated for a moment, but then moved toward the couch, sinking into the cushions. She looked around, taking in the cozy surroundings, though her mind was far from at ease. She moved towards the kitchen side. There, the clinking of teacups filled the silence between the two as muffled sounds accompanied their conversation. Scarlett sat closer; the fire dancing around her face brought shadows, while her heart was tortured by numerous questions that had teased her for days.
"I have come here to learn about Hawthorne," Scarlett finally said, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "About my father the Hawthorne Collective. About his disappearance. And why this place feels like it's haunted by something dark."
Rebecca stopped. She let the kettle go. She turned slowly to him. The silence hung in there for a long moment. Then Rebecca put the kettle down and walked over to Scarlett. She sat facing her. Her eyes were deep with thought.
"'You are grubbing up something that's been buried in time eternal, Scarlett,' Rebecca said gently, almost whispering. 'You'll come upon certain things people don't like to think about and leave 'em that way. Better.'
Scarlett felt the spasm in her stomach at this portent. "I need to know. I will not be able to be allowed to go on carrying me with all these things dangling in my brain about that".
Rebecca's eyes softened but the weight of her words failed not. "Some things are dangerous to know, Scarlett. Especially in a place like Hawthorne. This town breathes with secrets. And those secrets are like roots, burrowing deep into the earth, binding everything together. The deeper you dig, the more they entangle you. Scarlett gulped at Rebecca's words. All the weight of them would lie inside her. "Try telling me something.".
Rebecca sank into the chair.
Scarlett was listening attentively; clenching their hands on the mug
"What kind of secrets"
She had just developed a mysterious personality almost beyond those timelines.
Life-changing secrets sort, like Eliot who didn't know where the Eliott went. Has nothing and all that entails him or those suspects".
Much before, the collective kept one thing buried here somewhere no one should ever know the truth for here. Every increasing passage of time makes the threat, worse.". Scarlett felt a rising panic in her chest. "You mean that my father.".
Your father didn't leave because he wanted to, Scarlett, Rebecca said softly. 'The Collective has had him silenced. They muzzled those who stood in the way of its desire. To keep a secret buried and kept is to do anything with anyone.'"
Scarlett's voice faltered. "Your saying my father was made silence?
Rebecca's face darkened. "Sometimes, silence is louder than words. And not just your father, Scarlett. Hawthorne has been built on secrets—secrets that have defined this town's history and will define its future. The Collective will do whatever it takes to guard those secrets. They'll manipulate, threaten, erase anyone who dares open their mouths to reveal the truth.".
Scarlett shook her head, trying to make sense of it all. "And you expect me just to let it be? That I can't even find out what the truth is?"
It's part of the history, literally the bloodline of this town. They are an old family; their influence runs so deep into the bones of this place. Whispers, debt, and power make up their business. With them, nothing's out of reach because they keep the secrets."
She did yield somewhat in Rebecca's eyes but only gave the voice the suggestion of finality. "Scarlett, be careful," she said. And when some secrets come to light, they can't be covered again. The shadows of this town will be against this is the way it's gonna be.".
Scarlett shivered at the words. "What if I cannot let it go? What if I must know to heal?"
Rebecca looked at her, warmth in her eyes almost unreadable. "Healing often costs dearly, my dear. But you must decide for yourself if you are ready to pay for it. Secrets best left buried exist to cover their own. But dig them up, and stand prepared for the consequences of such actions.".
Scarlett's heart pounded with fear in her chest. Now she could not go back. She had taken one step past the threshold and the shadows of Hawthorne had crept inside her. Yet she could not let go. She didn't know why, but she had to know now.
"Thanks, Rebecca," she whispered.
Rebecca nodded her head. A gleam of knowing was in her eyes. "Take care, child. The shadows are restless."