The Sisters’ Secrets: Rose

Pearl and Ben had been inseparable and even after years together, they were as in love as they were when they’d met.

There was no way she was getting that in The Burrow. The townies knew too much of her childhood, and tourists weren’t looking for long-term commitments. She knew that firsthand, and she’d never cross that bridge again.

The door opened, distracting her from her thoughts. Serving customers kept her mind busy. Missy had capitalized on the locals, offering sandwiches for reasonable prices during the off-season. It kept her employees paid and Rose from drowning in bills. She’d had more than enough to thank Missy for in her life.

Later that afternoon, after Rose insisted that Missy go home before her actual shift that evening, the lull in the flow of customers was a welcome retreat. While Rose didn’t want to think about Pearl, she felt a little sick when she forgot about her, even for a few minutes.

The bell above the side door jangled, shattering all thoughts of Pearl.

Two police officers walked through the doors. Even though they both had Town of Burrow patches stitched on the arms of their navy-blue shirts, she only recognized one of them. The other had his back turned and typed furiously on his phone.

Chief of Police, Patrick McCreary, met her eyes and nodded his head. A rotund man in his fifties, he had been around her house a lot during Rose’s teen years when Reen found herself in trouble more than a few times. Things had quieted down tremendously in the years since her departure, both at home and in town.

He removed his hat and droplets of rain slid to the floor. He smoothed down the few strands of hair left on his head.

‘Afternoon, Patrick,’ Rose said.

‘Rose,’ Patrick said. ‘It’s good to see you.’

The other officer turned around. A stone-faced guy, closer to her age than Patrick’s. His nose was thicker in the middle, looking as if he’d been in a lot of fights as a kid. His dark hair was thick and shaggy at the top of his head but buzzed on the sides. Otherwise, he was cleanly shaven. He looked more like a tourist than a local. The way his eyes darted across the restaurant confirmed it.

Rose suppressed a smile. If he was looking for crime in this place, he was about to be sorely disappointed.

‘I’m Rose,’ she said, leading them to a window booth.

‘Shane Cassidy.’ He offered his hand.

She took it. ‘Nice to meet you.’ His rough hand brushed over hers. She drew in a sharp breath and nearly dropped the menus. ‘I have a seat right over here for you,’ Rose said, trying to recover. It wasn’t as if many attractive men came to town to stay more than the summer.

Patrick slid into the booth. As she moved out of the way, she focused on Shane. For a second, she thought she noticed a lumbering in Shane’s gait, but when his eyes lifted to hers, she glanced outside, trying to hide the heat on her cheeks. The rain had slowed, but the sun had yet to peek through the clouds.

She dropped two menus on the table.

Patrick barely glanced at the plastic menu. That was the way it worked in The Burrow. You could tell the tourists from the townsfolk in seconds.

‘What’s good here?’ Shane asked.

‘Everything,’ Rose and Patrick said at the same time.

Patrick chuckled as Shane raised his thick eyebrows. ‘That’s helpful.’

Rose smiled at the joke, but he didn’t. He wasn’t teasing.

Rose cleared her throat. ‘Can I get some water for the table?’

‘Sure,’ Patrick said, smiling up at her with his grayish teeth. ‘And I’ll have a coffee too.’

‘I’ll be back to take your order.’ Rose crossed the room to prepare the waters and coffee.

‘Patrick,’ Mrs. Miller said from two booths over. She and her husband came into The Siren several times a week. An older couple in their sixties, they ran the antique and used bookstore closer to the town center.

‘Good afternoon, Sally,’ Patrick said, nodding toward them.

‘Who’s the new guy?’ Mr. Miller asked.

‘You know I’m retiring,’ Patrick said. ‘Shane here will be taking my position as chief come the summer.’

‘No kidding,’ Mr. Miller said.

‘What he means is, we’re happy to have you,’ Mrs. Miller said to Shane.

His jaw tensed; even Rose could sense his discomfort across the room. Newcomers to The Burrow weren’t used to the level of nosiness around these parts.

While the Millers went back to their clam chowder, Patrick and Shane continued their conversation.

Rose approached the table with two glasses of water and their utensils, trying not to make it appear as if she were eavesdropping.

‘You’re not in the big city anymore,’ Patrick said to Shane.

‘Oh? I had no idea.’ Shane leaned against the back of the booth and grunted. He glared out the window.

‘Ready to order?’ Rose asked.

‘Yeah,’ Shane said without looking her in the eye. He flipped over the one-page lunch menu. ‘Burger, medium.’

‘You want fries with that or a salad?’

Shane looked at Rose as if she’d sprouted two heads. ‘Fries.’

Rose leaned toward Patrick. ‘Soup and grilled cheese with bacon?’

‘You know me,’ Patrick said, handing over the two menus.

Rose took them and turned to Patrick. ‘You’re retiring? I had no idea.’

‘Yes, but Shane here is a great replacement. His father and I met at the academy. Been good friends ever since.’

‘Really?’

Shane scoffed. ‘We’re all one big happy family.’

She met Shane’s eyes. They were so brown that the pupils were barely discernable.

‘But Shane joins us from New York City. He’s well trained and perfect for The Burrow,’ Patrick said.

‘Not sure about perfect,’ Shane said, twirling his sunglasses over the slick wooden surface.

‘Let me put your order in,’ Rose said before skittering away. She walked through the swinging doors to the kitchen where Brody, Missy’s younger brother, was cleaning the grill.

‘Medium burger with fries and a Patrick special,’ Rose said, writing down the order on her pad and handing it over to him.

‘You got it,’ Brody said, turning his ice-blue eyes on Rose. Those who didn’t know the three-year age difference thought Missy and Brody were twins. Because of her friendship with Missy, Rose always felt a sisterly bond with Brody.

He and Reen had dated for a while in high school, but he was small-town. His family had lived in the same house for generations, a beautiful old colonial near the edge of town. Missy and Brody weren’t going anywhere. Reen couldn’t get out fast enough.

Rose glanced out the passthrough window at Patrick and Shane. ‘Did you know Patrick was retiring?’

‘I heard it around town,’ Brody said, slapping a pre-formed patty on the grill. The sizzling and popping sounds made her stomach growl.

‘I can’t imagine it,’ Rose said.

‘Times are changing.’

‘Yes. Yes they are.’ More than Rose ever wanted to admit.

Chapter 2

Rose left the restaurant at around 5 p.m. A spike in customers kept her busy until the end of her shift.

On the way to her car, she checked her phone for the hundredth time that day. She wondered if she should head back to the Whinding House to see Mom again or save it for tomorrow.

Even though she’d eaten one of the cast-off sandwiches that Brody had burned, she was still hungry. But her mind was too distracted, making her indecisive.

She drove to the library, intending to check out a few books to occupy her evening. As her nightly routine, Rose turned to wine and books before bed. Both numbed her mind and dulled her senses so she could escape to another place, far, far away from The Burrow. She loved her home, but with everyone knowing her business and asking about Pearl, by the end of the day she needed a break.

The rain hadn’t let up much, and she slowly navigated her car through the streets of the town. She leaned forward, peering through the sheets of rain pelting her windshield.

Those caught outside during the storm hurried across the sidewalks to find cover, huddling under jacket hoods and umbrellas. At least Rose wasn’t the only person annoyed with the weather. As she pulled into the parking lot of the library, a figure appeared in front of her car.

Rose slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop inches from the person.

Her heart threatened to beat from her chest as her hands gripped the wheel tight enough to stretch the skin over her knuckles, turning them white. She caught her breath, gulping in as much air as possible.

Shoving the door open, she stumbled outside. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there. Are you okay?’ Rose shivered as the rain soaked her from head to toe within seconds.

The woman wore little more than a black tank top and jogging shorts. She had long, almost black hair, which clung to her like a python, wrapping around her waist and one of her arms.

‘Did I hit you?’ Rose called over the noise of the downpour. ‘If you’re hurt, I can drive you to the hospital.’

The woman turned, and Rose sucked in a breath. The woman was much younger than Rose had initially thought. She was a teenager. Her lithe body shrunk away from Rose.

‘Or I can call someone?’ Rose glanced around, hoping that no one had seen her nearly hitting someone. She feared that everyone might think she was on an early path toward Pearl’s tendencies.

But when she turned to the girl again, she was gone.

On the drive home, the sky cleared enough that Rose turned off the rapid speed of the wipers. The familiar streets no longer offered her comfort. She scanned the area, pausing on each person walking through town. She searched for the girl who had appeared and disappeared quicker than Rose could blink. She took the long way home, winding through the streets of town, desperate to see the girl one more time. At the very least, she wanted to be sure she hadn’t hurt the girl, but from the way she left without a trace, Rose didn’t understand why she was so worried.

It wasn’t until she passed the pier that her entire body broke out in gooseflesh.

Rose almost wished it was raining, so that she could have easily mistaken the long-haired girl for someone – or something else. She swung the wheel to the right and slammed her foot onto the brake. Crackling debris ricocheted off the bottom of her car as it skidded to a stop. After throwing the car into park, she flung the door open.

The breeze coming off the restless sea after the storm filtered through her already damp hair. Ice swirled down her spine.

Her reaction wasn’t just from seeing the girl again, who stood on the top railing of the pier – a dangerous feat even for a daredevil. Since the rocks were barely visible under the surface of the water, there was no way this girl would survive unscathed if she fell.

‘Hello,’ Rose called, cupping her hands over her mouth.

The girl glanced over her shoulder, locking eyes with Rose. Her expression was clear, almost regretful. Rose’s heartbeat thrashed in her ears. What was the girl doing?

Numbness seized Rose’s limbs, and she stood next to the car. ‘Come down from there, I can –’

Before she could finish, the girl lunged forward, falling into the open air.

Rose cried out and bolted toward the pier, unable to take her eyes off the girl as she plummeted into the water.

Rose stopped at the edge of the pier, gripping the wooden railing, even though the rough edges bit into her hands. An ache bloomed in her chest, and she held her breath.

The scene before her changed, throwing her back in time to when the moon was high and she could feel the water pressing against every inch of her body. Black spots exploded in her vision. Nausea overtook her, but she swallowed it down. Opening her eyes again, she scanned the watery depths. There was no sign of the girl.

But there had to be. Rose scoured every single movement of the water. There was no way the ocean could have taken her out that quickly. Was she injured and stuck under the pier, out of Rose’s vision?

Rose stood, transfixed by what had just happened. She waited for the girl to come up again. But she didn’t.

Heat moved behind Rose’s eyes.

She waited for a second more before she sprinted back to her car, grabbing her cell phone. She should have thought of it earlier. There was no way Rose could save the girl, but at least someone could try.

Dispatch picked up the line.

‘I need to report an accident,’ Rose said through choking breaths.

As the dispatcher asked her questions, Rose answered them, only seeing the girl’s eyes staring back at her, somehow thinking all of this was her fault.

‘Rose Barros?’ a gruff male voice cut through her.

Rose glanced up from her lap. Shane Cassidy stood there. A notebook rested in his hand with a pen in the other.

This was really happening. ‘Yes.’ The tips of her fingers were still numb, and the spot where she’d plucked out a wood sliver radiated with pain.

An ambulance and three police cars surrounded Rose’s car, blocking all possibility of escape. Though, as the only witness, she had a duty to help the police find the girl.

‘I’d like to go over what happened here.’

‘Sure,’ she said, sitting up straighter. She hadn’t moved from her seat since the incident. For some reason, her legs refused to follow orders. It was probably a good thing. Going back to the pier would only stick a knife further into her heart. As it was, she’d had trouble taking a full breath since it happened. Her body responded as if she were the one who had fallen.

‘Start at the beginning,’ he said, looking at her through his large sunglasses.

Her reflection stared back at her. In the small image, her eyes were wide, and her lips tugged downward.

She blinked and cleared her throat. ‘I saw her earlier.’

‘The victim?’ he asked.

Her teeth dug into her lip. ‘Yes. I almost ran into her at the library.’

‘You knew her?’

‘No. I literally almost ran into her. With my car. It was raining. She came out of nowhere.’

Shane’s lips pursed as he started to write on the small wire-bound pad in his hands. At least his penetrating gaze wasn’t on her anymore. ‘What happened after that?’

Rose shook her head. ‘I, um, looked away for a second and she was gone.’

Shane sniffed and poised his pen on the pad. ‘Okay. What happened after she disappeared?’

Rose went over every single moment from parking her car at the library, the time she’d spent there, and seeing the girl at the pier. ‘I called out to her. I thought she heard me. She looked at me and then jumped.’

‘She jumped?’

‘Yes.’

‘She didn’t slip?’

Rose shook her head. ‘I supposed she could have.’ Though, what was she doing up there if she didn’t plan on jumping?

Shane squatted in front of her. He was tall enough that he was at eye level. ‘Did she go head first or feet first?’

‘Head,’ Rose said after a moment.

Shane stood up again and wrote furiously on his pad.

‘Do you think they’ll find her?’

Shane sighed. ‘If you want my honest answer, I don’t think she’s coming out of there.’

A choked gasp escaped Rose’s mouth.

‘Hey.’ He reached for her, but stopped, his hand hovering in the air between them. ‘This isn’t your fault.’

‘I’m not so sure about that.’ I could have stopped her if I wasn’t such a damn coward.

‘If she wanted to jump, then that was her choice. If you hadn’t come along, she probably would have done it anyway.’

‘Shane,’ one of the officers called and Shane walked over to him.

Rose took the momentary reprieve to turn her head to the side. Tears threatened to fall, but she stared up at the ceiling of her car, refusing to cry in front of all these people.

When Shane returned, she’d regained her composure, at least as much as she could.

‘Is there anything else you remember about the girl from the library to the pier? Her reactions, emotions? Did she seem distressed?’ Shane asked.

Rose wiped at her nose. ‘No. I can’t think of anything right now.’

Shane tucked the pad into his pocket. ‘If you do, call the precinct. The number isn’t hard to remember.’ He smirked, but she didn’t return it.

She wasn’t sure if she’d ever smile again.

Shane sauntered away with his thumbs hooked in his belt as if he were already the chief.

Patrick appeared in her rearview mirror lifting the crime scene tape over his head before stepping past the line. Somehow, she found her legs again. She stood up and wobbled slightly before waving him down.

‘Rose,’ Patrick said, coming over to her. ‘How are you doing? Do you want to talk?’

An ache formed in her head. ‘Not really. At least not right now. Am I free to go?’

‘Did you give a statement?’

Rose nodded, feeling her mouth dry up like there were cotton balls stuffed inside.

‘Then you’re good to go.’ The skin around his eyes crinkled. ‘I can have someone accompany you if you want?’

‘No, that’s okay. You need help here. I hope they find her.’

‘Me too,’ he said and waved a hand at the officer standing by the tape. ‘You’re clear to drive through.’

‘Thanks.’

As she drove away from the pier, Rose stared at the road ahead. There were plenty of familiar faces in the crowd. It wasn’t a sight that any resident saw on a routine basis. The last time Rose saw a crime scene was on the news.

All the onlookers peered inside of her car as she passed. Her shoulders slumped as if she could make herself smaller. She knew she’d have a lot of questions coming her way. It was why she needed distance. At least if she could think through all of it, then she’d be able to sleep tonight and prepare herself for answering questions from the curious townies.

After arriving at the house, she quietly slipped up the stairs to her apartment before Mrs. Collins spotted her. Mrs. Collins rarely left her home, but she positioned her couch within arm’s length of her landline phone. She knew more gossip than anyone in town and did so without much effort.

The apartment was quiet as the echo of the crashing ocean faded from her mind. The image of the long-haired girl followed Rose around. She appeared in the corner of her bedroom as Rose changed out of her work clothes and even in the bathroom where she scrubbed the day off her body.

The girl accompanied Rose until she couldn’t take it anymore. Instead of digging into the stack of Highland Romances that she’d picked up from the library, she poured a glass of wine and settled at her desk.

As the computer booted up, she took a long drag from the glass. She rolled the sweet Cabernet around in her mouth as her fingers hovered over the keypad.

Without a name, what could she search for?

The girl couldn’t have been more than 18 years old. Was there a place to search for missing teens?

Rose scoured local newspapers, pushing out into Rhode Island and Massachusetts. The few relevant articles that she found didn’t match any descriptions of the girl.

Was it too soon for anyone to report her missing? Kids might still be doing after-school activities, so it was possible that no one would have noticed yet.

She drained the glass of wine and closed her laptop. She had as much information as she did walking through her front door. But in that time, she hadn’t worried about Pearl at all.

Purpose settled deep within her bones. Rose stood up and silently vowed to find out more about this girl and what had caused her to jump to an early and watery grave.

Chapter 3

For years, Rose thought she’d finally beaten the nightmares. After seeing the girl jump into the ocean, they came back with a vengeance. This time, she wasn’t alone. The long-haired girl’s face joined her in the water. Those beautiful and mysterious eyes widened until they looked as if they were going to pop out of her head. Bubbles flurried around her mouth as her lips tried to form words.

Rose reached out to her, but she froze in fear. The scaly object tightened around their legs, dragging both of them downward.

Over the years, the events from that night shifted. Mom never gave her an answer about how she knew Rose was in the ocean. And seaweed didn’t have that kind of force behind it. The questions never left her mind, but each time she asked Pearl about it, the devastation in her mother’s eyes prevented her from pushing.

That night had been traumatic for Pearl too. Rose hated to see Pearl upset about anything, so eventually, she stopped asking. And had refused to step into the ocean since. Reen tried to change her mind about the ocean, but it never worked. The fear was so paralyzing that it cost Rose the closeness with her sister too.

The flickering image of the girl followed Rose around her apartment all morning. Without a phone call from the Whinding House, she had no excuse to be late for work again, even if she was seeing someone who wasn’t there.

Throughout her shift at The Siren, her mind wandered enough that her work suffered. There were only a few customers, but Rose managed to screw up at least one item on most of their orders.

It didn’t help that every single local who came into the restaurant mentioned the girl who’d committed suicide on the pier.

Local gossip never bothered her much unless she was the center of it. The last time she’d felt this way was when the rumors swirled around town about Mom ending up in the middle of the park, dressed in her Sunday best, at two in the morning.

Most asked about her involvement.

Did you know the girl?

That must have been so awful.

Did you see her body?

She muttered quick and dismissive responses, not wanting to dwell more than a few seconds on the topic.

By the end of the day, she had the urge to jump off the pier herself.

The one thing all the conversations had in common was that no one knew the identity of the girl. There weren’t any missing locals, at least as far as anyone knew.

Desperation fueled the relentless thoughts swirling in her mind. Once she got the girl out of her head, then she’d be able to release the ghost following her around and get back to a normal and nightmare-free life.

The dinner crowd kept Missy busy enough in the kitchen to almost miss Rose sneaking out the back door.

‘You know I’m going to stop over tonight,’ Missy called to her.

‘Bring wine,’ Rose said as she pulled the door closed.

Rose had only been to the Burrow Police Department twice in her life. With her tendency to stay out of trouble, there was no need, other than the obligatory elementary and middle school field trips. She passed it on the way to the Whinding House but rarely gave the tan brick building a second look.

Her clammy hands curled around the steering wheel as she drove past the police cars parked in a row at the far end of the lot.

Pressure built in her throat and she drew in several breaths before trying to get out of the car. She had a right to get closer. Patrick had asked her if she needed anything.

Yes, Patrick, all I need to know is who she was. Then I can go back to my ordinary life instead of seeing her everywhere.

When she finally got out of the car, she steadied herself and picked up her pace toward the building.

The front doors spilled into a lobby. The gray-tiled floors were slick and impeccably clean. At the far end of the room was a desk with a female uniformed officer typing away at a computer. Her thin lips pursed as she concentrated on her work.

It wasn’t until Rose stood right in front of her that the officer tilted her head to the side and lifted her gaze. ‘Good afternoon.’

‘Hi,’ Rose said, pushing through a shaky smile. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous; it wasn’t as if she had committed a crime. Well, an almost hit and run, but no one had charged her yet. ‘I’d like to speak with Patrick McCreary.’

‘Do you have an appointment?’

‘I don’t. But I was the one who witnessed that girl jumping off the pier.’

The officer’s lips tugged downward. ‘So, you have more information.’ It wasn’t a question, and Rose chose not to answer. The officer picked up the phone and pressed one of the buttons on the keypad. She cradled the phone against her shoulder and focused on her computer screen again. ‘Yes, I have a Miss –’ She glanced at her, her thin eyebrows raised.

‘Rose Barros.’

‘Rose Barros. She’d like to speak with you about the suicide victim.’

Rose licked her suddenly dry lips. Suicide. It made sense that they’d leaped to that conclusion, but for some reason, it didn’t sit well with her. It was too final.

‘I’ll send her back,’ the officer said and placed the phone down before standing up.

The officer towered over Rose. She hadn’t looked that tall in her chair. ‘Come with me,’ the officer said and headed down a narrow hallway behind her desk.

Rose hastened her steps to keep up with the officer’s long stride. After passing through two key-padded doors, they arrived at a door that read ‘Chief of Police’ on the placard.

The officer knocked and stood with her hands clasped behind her back.

Rose straightened her spine, then thought better of it. She loosened her shoulders. There was no reason to be nervous about anything.

The door swung open and Rose – fully expecting to see Patrick – saw a stone-faced Shane in the doorway.

His arms were crossed in front of him. ‘You have more information?’

The female officer abandoned Rose. The rapid clicking of her shoes matched the pace of Rose’s heartbeat. She’d expected Patrick to be alone, but it made sense that Shane would be with him since he was taking over soon.

She craned her neck to peer around him. ‘Is Patrick here?’

‘Through here,’ Patrick said from inside of the room.

Rose squeezed by Shane. He moved to the side, barely letting her through the doorway.

‘Sorry to barge in without an appointment.’

‘No need to apologize,’ Patrick said, waving her over to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Patrick’s office was simple. Rose wouldn’t think of him any other way. Two tall filing cabinets and a bookcase took up one side of the room. The only window in the room looked out onto the main road. She wondered if they saw her coming and were expecting more from her, when in fact she wanted something from them.

‘You have more information about the case?’ Shane repeated. He moved to stand in front of her, leaning up against the desk. His sunglasses perched on top of his head. She preferred them between her and his piercing gaze.

‘No.’ She sat in the chair, wondering if this was the worst idea she’d ever had. Clearing her throat, she said, ‘I wanted to know if there was any information on the girl.’

Shane and Patrick shared a look.

‘What information do you need?’ Patrick asked.

‘Are you sure it was a suicide?’ Rose asked.

Shane stood all the way up, leaning forward. ‘Do you have any reason to think otherwise?’

‘No. I – I can’t imagine what her family must be feeling.’ Rose knew loss.

Shane’s eyebrows drew together, and he tilted his head to the side as if he were a dog listening to a high-pitched whistle. Was her request that out of the ordinary?

‘That’s understandable,’ Patrick said. ‘But without a body there’s no way we can identify her.’

‘Then, potentially, she could be alive,’ Rose said.

‘She didn’t come out of the water,’ Shane said. ‘At least that was what you reported, correct?’

Rose’s heart sunk in her chest, enough that she thought her ribs were going to cave in.

‘Listen, Rose.’ Patrick got up from his chair. He rounded the desk and sat down next to her. ‘There was nothing you could do. It’s a tragedy, but you shouldn’t worry about it. If we find out anything, I’ll be sure to let you know.’

‘Is that how it works around here?’ Shane asked him.

Patrick glanced at Rose and pressed his lips into a thin line. ‘Rose is upset. We take care of our own around here.’

‘But sharing confidential information like that, to a civilian?’

Rose gritted her teeth, listening to them speak as if she wasn’t in the room.

Patrick rubbed his hands together as if he were trying to start a fire out of thin air. ‘Rose isn’t on trial here,’ Patrick said.

Shane carried on as if he hadn’t heard the chief. ‘If you know something, tell us. Otherwise, all we have to go on is your word. And right now, it looks like a suicide.’

The rush of the ocean filled her ears and the room tilted. A flash of the girl under the water filled her vision. Heat surged under her skin and tears pricked behind her eyes.

Rose stood from her chair. The legs scraped against the tile floor. ‘I’m sorry I came.’ Her fingers brushed over her eyes, wiping away her tears. If she could pick one thing she hated about herself, it would be breaking down with intense emotion.

Once she was in the hallway, she dashed toward the exit. She avoided eye contact with the female officer in the lobby and shoved through the front doors.

By the time she reached her car she was out of breath. Why was this girl affecting her so? Why couldn’t she accept that she’d committed suicide? There was nothing that told her otherwise. Rose was there. She saw the girl jump. But without the body, a shred of hope bloomed in her chest.

Where her life once made sense, now it was a jumble of questions. Was she the only one fighting for this girl? With the push back from Patrick and Shane, Rose knew she had to be careful if she wanted some answers.

And she would get them with or without their help.

The library had closed around seven o’clock that night. If the girl walked from the library to the pier, someone had to have seen her.

Rose’s skin prickled as she pulled into the parking lot for the second time in two days. It wasn’t completely for the memory of nearly mowing the girl down, but for the possibility of finding out who she was and why she thought that ending her life was more important than life itself.