Chapter 1 - The Ghost in the Rain
The heavy metal door of the black truck creaked open slowly.
A sleek leather boot stepped out onto the wet asphalt.
The rain seemed to part around the figure that emerged from the shadows of the vehicle.
It was a woman wrapped in a dark, expensive trench coat.
Arthur, the father, felt his heart completely stop in his chest.
The woman raised her face, letting the streetlights illuminate her features.
It was Evelyn.
His wife, the mother of his child, who had supposedly burned in a horrific car crash five years ago.
Arthur took a stumbling step backward, instinctively pulling his daughter closer to his side.
The little girl, Lily, squeezed her eyes shut again, her whole body shaking violently.
The boy covered in mud stood perfectly still, his sharp eyes darting between the adults.
Evelyn smiled, but there was absolutely no warmth in her cold, gray eyes.
She did not look like a mother who had missed her family.
She looked like a predator who had finally cornered her prey.
Arthur tried to speak, but the words choked in his dry throat.
He had mourned this woman, cried over an empty casket, and rebuilt his life from ashes.
Now, she was standing here, staring at the daughter she had forced into a life of darkness.
Evelyn took a slow, deliberate step toward them.
The sound of her heels clicking against the pavement echoed like gunshots.
Arthur finally found his voice, though it came out as a desperate, broken whisper.
He asked her what she wanted after all these years.
Evelyn’s smile widened, revealing perfectly white teeth.
She said she had come to collect what belonged to her.
Before Arthur could react, the muddy boy suddenly shoved a trash can into Evelyn’s path.
The metal can crashed loudly, spilling garbage and creating a momentary barrier.
The boy grabbed Arthur’s sleeve and yelled at him to run immediately.
Arthur did not hesitate for another second.
He scooped Lily into his arms and sprinted down the dark, rain-soaked avenue.
May you like
He didn't look back to see if his dead wife was following them.
He only focused on the frantic beating of his own heart.
