Chapter Two: The Unraveling
The fog in Ravenwood hadn’t lifted by the time Elliot returned to the streets. It clung to the buildings, winding through the alleyways, as if the town itself were breathing in the heavy air. The sense of foreboding that had settled over him since Naomi’s disappearance had only grown stronger. He couldn’t shake the image of her apartment—papers scattered, files missing, and the absence of her laptop. It was as if someone wanted to make sure she’d never get the chance to finish whatever she had started.
He needed answers, and the only place to start was where Naomi had last been—her office. A small, second-floor space above the bookstore on Elm Street. It was a cramped, cluttered room, filled with old newspapers, research materials, and half-empty coffee cups. Naomi had always joked that her office was a reflection of her mind—disorganized, but with a method to the madness. If there was anything left behind, it might hold the key to understanding what had happened.
The walk there felt longer than usual. Every step seemed to echo in the hollow emptiness of the town, as if Ravenwood itself were holding its breath, waiting for something. The weather had worsened, the rain turning into a steady downpour that smudged the edges of the world. By the time Elliot reached the bookstore, his coat was soaked through, and the cold had seeped into his bones.
The bookstore, Gale’s Pages, was one of the few places in town that hadn’t been overtaken by the creeping decay that seemed to have claimed everything else. Its wood-paneled walls and floor-to-ceiling shelves made it feel more like a time capsule than a business. And at the front desk, as always, was Gale Holloway, the elderly proprietor who had run the place for as long as anyone could remember.
Elliot paused at the door, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. Gale had always been a fixture in Ravenwood, but she was also a woman of secrets. She knew things, things that most people in town wouldn’t dare speak of. He had no idea how much she knew about Naomi’s investigation, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.
He pushed open the door with a creak, and the bell above the entrance rang out, startling Gale from her reverie. Her narrow, sharp eyes—eyes that had seen decades of history pass through the town—narrowed as she saw him.
“You’re wet,” she said, her voice thick with a certain knowing that made him uneasy. “What brings you here, Elliot? The rain isn’t the only thing that’s foul today.”
Elliot tried to ignore the pang of unease in his chest. “I’m looking for Naomi’s office. Is it open?”
Gale’s gaze shifted toward the stairs, her lips pressing into a thin line. “She hasn’t been by in a while,” she said quietly, her voice dipping into a tone that made the air feel heavier. “You won’t find her there, if that’s what you’re after.”
“I know she’s missing,” Elliot replied, his frustration rising. “But I need to look around. She was working on something important—something that could help me understand why she vanished.”
Gale’s gaze softened just slightly, though there was still a guarded wariness in her expression. “You won’t find the answers you’re looking for in that office. Not unless you’re willing to face what she was digging into.”
Her words hit him like a slap, but he couldn’t let it deter him. “I’m not afraid,” Elliot said, more to convince himself than her. “I just need to know.”
With a long, reluctant sigh, Gale nodded and motioned toward the stairs at the back of the store. “The office is up there. But remember what I said. Some things… once you see them, you can’t unsee them.”
Elliot didn’t respond. He simply walked past her, his mind set on the task ahead. As he climbed the stairs, the familiar scent of old paper and ink filled his nose. Naomi’s office had always been a strange mix of chaos and purpose, and today, it felt even more disjointed, as though the very air was thick with unanswered questions.
The door to Naomi’s office was slightly ajar, the dim light from the single bulb above casting long shadows across the floor. Inside, the room was a mess—a far cry from the organized clutter Naomi had always claimed was her way of working. The papers were scattered all over the floor, and the desk had been overturned. The files that had once been neatly stacked were now torn apart, their contents strewn about as if someone had been searching for something—and had found it.
Elliot’s eyes scanned the room, searching for any clue, any trace of the investigation that Naomi had been so obsessed with. Her desk was the first place he checked, rifling through the papers, but there was nothing useful—no notes, no clues. It was as if whatever Naomi had been working on had been carefully erased.
Then he spotted it.
A small, leather-bound notebook, half-hidden beneath a stack of discarded papers. He pulled it free, his heart pounding as he flipped it open. The pages were filled with Naomi’s neat handwriting, though the words were jumbled and scattered across the pages. Bits of information, half-formed theories, and names he didn’t recognize. But something caught his eye—something that made his blood run cold.
A name. Charles Hale.
Elliot’s mind reeled. Charles Hale was a name from the past, a name tied to the unsolved case that had haunted Ravenwood for decades. A case that had been quietly swept under the rug, a case no one dared speak about. Elliot knew it was a mistake to delve into it, but Naomi had clearly made it her mission to uncover the truth.
The more he read, the clearer it became that Naomi had been getting close—too close—to something dark, something that someone didn’t want uncovered. She had written about Hale’s involvement in a series of disappearances that spanned back years. And now, her own disappearance seemed to fit into the same pattern.
There was no time to waste.
Elliot stuffed the notebook into his coat pocket and turned to leave, but as he reached the door, he froze. A sound—a faint scratching—echoed from downstairs. Someone was in the bookstore.
He crept to the top of the stairs, his breath shallow, listening for any hint of movement. The sound came again, closer this time, followed by a quiet voice. A voice he recognized.
“Nora?”
Elliot’s heart leapt in his chest. What was she doing here? Why hadn’t she told him she was coming?
He crept down the stairs, but as he reached the bottom, the door swung open, revealing not Nora, but someone he hadn’t seen in years—Detective Matthew Graves. The very same detective who had been in charge of the case all those years ago.
Graves’ steely gaze met Elliot’s, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. But in Graves’ eyes, Elliot saw something that sent a chill down his spine. Recognition. And something darker, something dangerous.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Graves said quietly, his voice cold. “You’re digging into something that’s better left buried.”
Elliot didn’t answer. He just turned and walked out of the bookstore, his mind racing. The town of Ravenwood had always been shrouded in mystery, but now, it seemed that the walls between what was hidden and what was real were starting to crumble. And Elliot had no intention of stopping until he uncovered everything.
