a deadly storm, an unsolved disappearance, and a small town brimming with secrecy;
an outcast girl, a boy who only knows how to hide, and the world against them;
what could go wrong?
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Four days pass without much event. Boo steeps in her worry; the little seed of doubt within blooms. At the center of every thought crossing Boo's mind is Martha's death; the hurricane becomes her sick obsession, in a way. The worry within is only exacerbated by Det. Loughton's strange behavior and the lack of an autopsy.
Harry provides a welcome distraction but even his soothing presence isn't enough. Her days become full of him as they get to know one another, but no amount of coffee dates or home-cooked dinners in the quiet comfort of Boo's new kitchen can help ease the constant gnawing in her stomach.
One afternoon, after working a morning shift at the hardware store, Boo is curled up on her sofa while the two o'clock sunlight drips in through the open blinds. Her attention is on the television as a random baseball game flickers by. Harry is in the kitchen, bustling about making a late lunch for the two of them. Boo's eyes keep drifting to his figure, lazily admiring his back muscles move under his white shirt as he prances around the kitchen.
"Are you staring at me again?" Harry calls, not bothering to turn around. She hears him laughing as she rolls her eyes.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she mutters, her gaze drifting back to the screen. Seconds later she glances over again, only to see Harry walking back with two plates in his hands.
"Caught you," he grins, handing her one plate and plopping down next to her. She blushes furiously and averts her eyes in embarrassment. He sprawls out on the couch, long legs stretched out in front of him and one arm resting on the back of the cushions behind Boo's head, subtly pulling his lean figure closer to hers.
She takes a bite of her sandwich and pokes her tongue out at him. "You don't know anything."
He winks at her but doesn't reply. The television screen suddenly flashes bright red, interrupting the baseball game, and Boo knows another breaking news story is about to begin.
Breaking news, my ass. Anything more exciting than a busted sprinkler is considered breaking news around here.
Sure enough, the words BREAKING STORY flash across the red screen in white block letters before the feed cuts to an image of Lena and Garret sitting at a desk in the JCTV news station. Lena rearranges her papers while Garret fidgets with his tie.
"Good afternoon, Jack Creek, we apologize for interrupting the normally-scheduled programming to bring you this breaking report," Garret chimes, a plastic smile on his face. "We've just received notice that next week is the forty-fifth anniversary of the disappearance of Jack Creek resident Damien Burkwell, who went missing while on a fishing trip at the beginning of summer in nineteen-sixty-nine."
A bell rings in Boo's mind; she shifts on the couch, her interest suddenly piqued. She knows that name.
Harry notices her movement. "Who's Damien Burkwell?" he asks, taking another bite out of his sandwich.
