Chapter 1: The Mist-Shrouded Arrival
The old Ford Focus coughed its way down the winding coastal road, a fitting soundtrack to Amelia Vance's arrival in Oakhaven. Mist, thick and insistent, clung to everything – the gnarled cypress trees, the weathered sign announcing "Oakhaven: Est. 1782," and the narrow, cobbled streets that seemed to disappear into the gray. Amelia gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white, a nervous excitement fluttering in her chest. This was it. Her research grant, her big break, her chance to dive headfirst into forgotten history.
Oakhaven wasn't just a town; it was a relic, a whisper of a bygone era. The houses, built from dark, sea-worn stone, huddled together as if seeking comfort from the relentless ocean wind. She passed a small, dimly lit pub, its windows fogged, and a general store with a faded sign that looked older than her grandmother. A shiver, not entirely from the cold, traced its way down her spine. It was beautiful, in a haunting sort of way, and utterly silent save for the distant cry of gulls and the rhythmic crash of waves against unseen cliffs. This place held secrets, she was sure of it. And Amelia, a historian with a penchant for the overlooked, was determined to unearth every single one. Her gaze swept across the ancient rooftops, searching for the small guesthouse she'd booked, a sense of anticipation building with each turn of the wheel.