The morning air was cold and heavy, as if the sky itself mourned with Mia. She stood at the edge of the small cemetery, clutching a bouquet of lilies, feeling the weight of loss pressing down on her chest. Friends and family of her adoptive parents—or those she had called family—milled quietly nearby, their whispered condolences only barely reaching her ears.
The casket was lowered slowly, each scrape of the rope echoing in the quiet. She could barely breathe, the image of their faces—smiling, alive—seared into her mind. She swallowed hard, trying to hold back sobs, but the tears came anyway, hot and unstoppable.
"I can't believe I'm saying goodbye… I can't believe you're really gone," she whispered under her breath, pressing her palm to the cool surface of the casket. She imagined them watching her, telling her to be strong, telling her she could face whatever came next—but the ache in her chest told her they weren't there to comfort her anymore.
After the service, she walked alone to her car, the box she had found tucked safely in her bag. She didn't know why, but the small container felt like the only tether to something permanent, something real in a life that now seemed unmoored.
Driving home, every familiar street, every brick and tree felt like a reminder of what she had lost. Her grief was raw and unrelenting, a constant echo in her mind. She knew she had to leave—to escape the memories that clung like shadows, and perhaps to find the answers the letters promised—but even the thought of leaving made her chest tighten.
Back at her house, she packed her belongings more carefully now, lingering over items she couldn't bring herself to leave behind. A photo of her mother on a summer picnic. A journal her father had kept, full of sketches and short notes. Each item was a shard of memory she couldn't bear to discard, but she had to. She had to step forward, into the unknown.
Three days. That was all she had allowed herself before setting out. Three days to grieve, to mourn, and to prepare. She carried the box to her room once more, opening it carefully, letting her fingers brush over the faded letters.
"Mystery Hollow… the answers you seek lie there," the note read again.
Mia's lips pressed into a thin line as she stared at the words. Who were her birth parents? Why had they given her up? And what kind of life awaited her in a place so mysterious it had only existed in whispers until now?
She packed the last of her things, her mind a tangle of sorrow and curiosity. The town she was leaving behind was steeped in loss, but Mystery Hollow promised something else—a chance to uncover the truth, to find a part of herself she had never known existed.
As night fell, she closed the door to the house she had called home for so many years, locking it one final time. The weight of grief still clung to her like a second skin, but beneath it, determination sparked. Mia Stone was leaving everything familiar behind.
And somewhere deep inside, she felt a stirring, a whisper of something she didn't yet understand—something that would change her life forever.