Secrets of Blackwater Bay

p had grown cold in her hands, but she hadn't noticed. Her mind was elsewhere, racing with everything that had happened in the last few

d on her-it was the growing sense that her entire life had been built on a foundation she didn't understand. The journal had been her grandmother's way of leaving brea

k with rain from the previous night's storm. The gray sky pressed down on the town like a heavy blanket, casting everything in a dim, muted lig

fil

. She looked up to see a woman with short, curly hair and a fr

mumbled, slidin

then hesitated, her gaze flickering over Emma's face.

ning on the handle of the cup. She no

ret. "I used to work up there, years ago. For your grandmother. She didn't let m

se quickened. "What was she like? My grand

e folks thought she was a little strange, but I always figured she was just private. She kept t

. It was starting to feel like the key to everything.

never talked about her family. Not to me, at least." She paused, glancing around the café before lowering her voice

n down her spine. "W

don't know if I believe all that, but... well, things got stranger after your mother passed. Some folks said they saw lights in the windows at night when

in my dreams. The shadows move at night.* She swallowed hard, trying to steady

use was built on some kind of ancient burial ground. Others said your family made a deal with... well, you know. Dark f

ind was racing. "Thanks for the c

curse. Dark forces. It all sounded like the kind of nonsense people whispered about to scare themselves, but there was something about it that felt uncomfortably real.

hat secret had her grandmother

sipping coffee and reading the local paper. He looked like a fixture of the town-one of those people who had probably lived

to his table. He looked up from his paper as she

ion?" Emma asked, her voic

setting his paper aside.

I'm Emma Hartley," she said, her heart pounding in her ch

arpened even more, th

s carefully. "But I've heard things-rumors, mostly. About my grandmoth

seat. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and gravelly. "I knew your grandmother. Knew your mother, too. Good p

ly, her heart racing.

The Hartleys have lived in that house for generations, and there's always been something about

ned. "What do you m

re involved in things-dark things. Rituals, sacrifices, that kind of nonsense. I never put much stock in it myself, but

down her spine. "Do

ut whatever it was, it died with her. O

be what her grandmother had been referring to i

irl. Whatever your family was mixed up in, it's not something you want

ened. "I don't thin

as if he understood. "Just remember-there's always a price to pay for dig

dered down the street, the cold wind biting at her skin as the gray sky pressed down on the town. The

stories. It was real. And whatever her grandmother had been tryin

ron gates creaking in the wind. The graves stretched out in neat rows, the headstones weather

ne. Many of them were familiar- families that had lived in Blackthorn Bay for ge

the shade of an old oak tree. The headstone was simple, unad

ret H

2 -

had taken so many secrets to her grave, leaving Emma to unravel them alo

f the oak tree and sending a shiver down Emma's spine. She knelt

ice barely audible over the wind. "Why didn

se, offered no ans

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