Chapter one
The cabin groaned, straining under the weight of age and the force of the howling winds that whipped through the bayou.
Across the room, cold-fogged windowpanes rattled violently inside their frames, distorting the view of the moonlight and forest beyond. On a battered and chipped end table, lamplight flickered uncertainly, sending shadows skittering across the scuffed floorboards.
This happened whenever temperatures dropped—or climbed—or when it rained, or sometimes for no discernible reason at all.
Curled into a squat, second-hand armchair with a new book and a mug of warm milk, Sammy Leeds barely noticed the little quirks.
In the far corner, atop a stone hearth, flames leapt and curled inside the ancient wood burner. It leaned slightly to one side, and it had rusted in some places, but the stove kept the space cozy despite the drafty doors and windows.
A relic from a simpler time, the cabin didn’t have as many of the modern luxuries the other houses in Hunters Hollow did. Atsome point in its history, it had been wired for electricity, but it hadn’t been built with the infrastructure for central heating and air.
But it was his.
The first thing he’d done after moving in the previous spring had been to install a couple of ductless air conditioner units. It had been an expensive upgrade, but a necessary one to keep temperatures tolerable throughout the humid Louisiana summers.
Otherwise, he didn’t mind washing dishes by hand, especially since he lived alone and rarely cooked. Eventually, he wanted to build a laundry room onto the back of the house, but for now, he hauled his clothes to a laundromat every couple of weeks.
It might not be ideal for everyone, but he had everything he needed, and what some might view as inconveniences, he considered unique charms of his little home.
Besides, it was still a hell of an upgrade from where he’d started.
When he’d landed in town nearly two years ago, it had been with a single suitcase and a lot of baggage. He’d worried his mysterious arrival would draw the wrong kind of attention, but in reality, no one cared, and if they did wonder, they never asked.
Probably because they all had scars of their own.
Places like Hunters Hollow collected trauma like some people amassed takeout menus. Not all at once, but in a steady trickle that added up over time.
Every resident had a story, a past, and secrets they didn’t want unearthed, just like him. With each passing day, those secrets felt a little heavier, and keeping them was a little harder.
He didn’t like lying, and it didn’t come naturally. He especially hated deceiving the people he cared about, people he thought of as family.
At the same time, it had become all too easy to lie to himself.
Building a new life on top of a shaky foundation wasn’t sustainable long term. He’d always known that, but he’d worked with what he had. Sadly, the first cracks had appeared much sooner than he’d expected.
Sammy stared down at his phone, at the name on the screen, and felt his stomach sink.
KIEV:Valerie just left the club. Call me.
He read the message at least a dozen times, his heart pounding in his throat, before he finally forced himself to place the call. With a shaking hand and a clenched jaw, he lifted the phone to his ear and waited.
“I wasn’t sure you’d call,”Kiev said in lieu of a proper greeting.
His voice had a slight echo to it, evident even over the steady drone of conversation, music, and clinking glass.
Sammy could see it clearly, as if no time at all had passed. He could picture the nightclub, and even where Kiev stood within it. Rather than filling him with nostalgia, however, the familiar sounds made him feel vaguely ill.
He and Kiev had been friends once, or something like it, but that brought him little comfort now.
“Why was my mom there?”
“She has the locket.”
He had already known that, of course, but a small part of him had hoped to be proven wrong. “Did she—” He swallowed thickly and tried again. “What did she do with it?”
“Nothing yet. She left with it in a cab about twenty minutes ago.”