Moonlit Promises: A Tale of Shadows and Redemption

herself into the hum of morning. The stillness of Hawthorne pressed down

r of age but more the air of memory itself remaining in the

had to live it never had; she carefully eyed the face of her daughter

honey swirled them over, and sprinkled cinnamon on top. Many dozens were a success at this. Are yo

that all that much. She had always known how to read her daughter, and at

em weren't meant to be recalled. Scarle

on Clara's face, touched

of discomfort. This was, after all, the tide of their family's history in Hawthorne: something Clara never

gotten back to trying to pay attention to these minut

slodge the stranger from her head or ge

ng for you, Sca

things she did not e

old house welcomes someone back. The buildings with their windo

own. As she walked toward the market square, the nag

square was not crowded at this hour; only a few vendors were preparing their stalls, t

eemed out of place, yet somehow something was shifting, something s

she was not going to uncover them by waiting a

rtable sweater and jeans and left her room, then grabbed her coat, and made for the market square again. The stre

ghost town now. Local shops were shuttered, with dust-covered windows and wooden signs creaking with every gust

The only sound was Scarlett's steps as she walked more steps into the square. It had been just one week of returning to Hawthorne for a visit, but

and she keeps an unwavering stare down at her as she approaches him. Her heart started pounding with it. A dart of recognition t

straightened her shoulders, and

steady and assertive. Y

xpression was now more calculating, less menacing. His v

my name is Eliot Mercer.

s just what she needed. More strangers tying herself to her father's disappearance. She spent years to let Hawthorne, along

for a moment as if h

e said finally. His voice was firm, his words measured. Ha

whatever may happen to her father, however cruel or unearthly it may be, buried so long ago, the truth drowned in layers of t

u know ab

eet hers again. His face smoothed, but there was

said. I know its secrets. And

s words hit too close to truths she'd buried for so long. She'd been trying to find answers. It's exactly what she had been doin

ts? she asked, her voi

sty distance as if he were thinking about just how to say the next words carefull

ou or I. It's not a story I'm comfortable telling lightly, but i

n, and curiosity. Trust. That word hung between them, heavy and unsu

if she was angry or scared and angry. This guy had simply appeared out of nowhere

ck. He reached forward a little, lowered hi

he did not understand in the least. Hawthorne is a town of tales, Scarlett. And your father's story is more twisted than most. If yo

earance. She'd gotten so busy burying herself in the illusion of normal life, far away f

finally, her voice thick with the weight of

in them something deep down nearly sad. His voice had so

said. Your father's story matters, but it is wrapped up badly. It's not easy to unravel what's what or even

ike she was standing at the edge of something so big and so unknown, looking

he could