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"Nobody likes a tattletale," he'd say, sneering while his friends would laugh.
To that very day, I never understood what he gained from it. I was just a little girl, and he was a few years older than me. It never made any sense.
I had despised him for it, and I silently wished every day that he would disappear. Funnily enough, that dream had come true. He up and left town, and none of us heard a thing from him. It was the most immense relief I had ever experienced, and he was lucky he left before I stepped into my powers.
Fortunately, I had spent that time changing myself for the better. I had left his taunts behind and worked on accepting myself, regardless of how difficult it was.
Even so, there was no stopping my resentment from creeping back in.
That raw anger for how belittled I had felt back then consumed me, and it took everything in my power not to let it influence me.
Standing there, not far from Liam, I didn't know what to do.
Those old feelings haunting me were enough to keep me planted firmly there, but I couldn't stay standing there like a creep forever.
Part of me wanted to turn and never come anywhere near the shop again. To forget all about it and pass on the assignment to someone else.
It was the easier option, even if it required explaining myself to Ron.
But that wasn't who I was anymore.
Being a journalist wasn't ever supposed to be easy, and I was a professional. I needed to act that way.
Pulling in a deep breath, I steadied myself and approached.
Chapter 2 - Liam
Everything I used to love about Rose Valley came rushing back the moment I stepped foot in town again.
Surrounding me with its beauty and charm, I realized more than ever how much I missed it. Even if the city had been integral to my growth, nothing could compare to the small-town life I was raised into.
While I had fond memories there, I told myself things would be different. I was going to start over and forget about my time away. I was going to keep everything clean and appreciate the chance to start again.
Minding my own business, I placed another box of supplies inside before stepping back outside for another.
The moment I spotted a woman just down the street with a handheld recorder in her hand, I already knew. Dread washed over me, but I paused reluctantly anyway.
"How can I help you?" I asked, hoping to get it over with sooner or later.
I understood well enough. It was a small town, and anybody moving in was a big deal. It didn't matter why or who it was; it was always a potential story.
She gave me a tight-lipped smile and took a step forward. "I'm with the local newspaper, and I was hoping to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?"
It wasn't how I hoped to spend my time, but I wasn't in the market for making enemies immediately.
"Sure," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.
The reporter pressed a button on the recorder and held it between us. She looked at me with a strange hesitance. "I appreciate it."
At the very least, she was attractive, which helped ease my annoyance somewhat. Her long black hair, sleek and shiny despite the late-autumn overcast, was pulled behind her ears. Guessing from her perfectly manicured nails and crisp business-casual attire, she was clean-cut. Professional.
She peered at me through her dark lashes with those piercing hazel eyes.
"I'm sure the locals would like to hear about your business opening soon. Can you tell me when you plan to officially open for business?"
Nodding to myself, I cleared my throat. "I'm set to open in a week from now, once everything is arranged."
The reporter gave me an acknowledging nod. "What type of tattoos do you specialize in?"
