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I remember growing up as a kid, and Ana used to get into trouble. I would always protect her from our father and take the blame for her actions. Everyone saw her as a rebel then, but I didn’t. She was just a little girl burdened with immortality who needed people to listen toher, and nobody did. Not Father, not the nannies, and definitely not the rest of the clan.
I remember once, when we were playing on the fields, Ana had developed a particular obsession with catching butterflies and storing them in one of our mother’s empty jars. We were out on the field with the rest of the other kids, and I sat by her jar because I wasn’t feeling too well. She had gone in search of butterflies herself.
I heard the other children gathering from a distance, and I got up to see what the drama was about. Still clutching the butterfly jar, I made my way towards them. Anastasia was standing with her hands balled, facing the town’s bully. She stood no chance against him, but she didn’t look like she was scared of him either.
I hastened my steps but when I got to them, he had hit her, and she was on the floor holding her head.
The rest of the kids were laughing loudly in mockery.
I saw red.
Anger surged within me like a tempest, and I lunged at the bully. The scuffle was brief, a whirlwind of fists and fury. When the dust settled, he lay on the ground, defeated and humbled.
I turned to Anastasia, her tears mingling with the dirt on her cheeks. Without a word, I scooped her into my arms, her small frame surprisingly light against my chest.
“Let’s get you home,” I murmured, my voice a mix of reassurance and lingering anger.
I carried her on my back, her arms draped around my neck. The journey home was silent; the only sound was the rustle of the wind through the fields. As we reached the familiar path leading to our village, Anastasia spoke.
“Thankyou, Alexei. For protecting me.”
I glanced back at her, a softness in my gaze that belied the ferocity of moments ago. “Always, Ana. Always.”
I had made a promise to her then to always protect her. Now, I had no idea where she was or how long she had been gone. I had no means of tracking her or even finding her accurate location. This was the third place she frequented, and they all hadn’t seen her in days.
The guilt was eating me up, and I wondered if things would have been different if I checked on her even more regularly. The last time I planted a tracker in her car, she had gone off on me. Now, I wish I hadn’t chickened out and tried to please her; maybe I would know her exact location.
“No one has seen her this week,” the third search party said, and I felt my heart drop even further. My sister was really missing, and I have no idea where she is.
CHAPTER 3 | THE FBI AGENT
EVELYN’S POV
The hostess had announced our arrival in Harmony Grove, jolting me out of my reverie. Was I really doing this, starting over in a small town? Volunteering for this role seemed like a great idea last week, but now uncertainty has taken root. I stood up from my seat and made my way off the plane, smiling at the hostess as I stepped into the fresh air.
Maybe Harmony Grove would indeed offer me a fresh start. I walked towards a woman holding up a sign that said “Mrs. Evelyn Williamson.” I sighed, realizing I should have informed them I wasn’t married. At least, not for much longer.
“Welcome, Mrs. Williamson.” The lady smiled at me, and my eyes drifted to my ring. I still couldn’t bring myself to take it off. In a fewdays, I would be walking away from Thomas Williamson and everything he stood for—the life we had spent the last five years building from scratch. My throat tightened from the pain, and I cleared my throat. It was too early to be grappling with that on my first day of a new job.
“Just call me Evelyn, please,” I replied with a smile, handing over my luggage to her. I twisted the ring off my finger, taking one last look at it before tossing it into the nearest trashcan. I had picked out that ring myself; Tom had just done the proposing. Those were the signs I should have noticed before walking down the aisle with him.
“Evelyn, I hope you enjoy it here,” she replied with her smile unaltered, and I nodded. She didn’t know why I was here, and I preferred to keep it that way. I hadn’t even called ahead at the police department. They would have picked me up from the airport themselves and prepared a place for me to stay.
I had made a conscious decision not to call ahead even before I left New York. No announcements, no preconceived judgments. I had my own suspicions on this case. I wanted to experience Harmony Grove organically, unfiltered by biased opinions or guided tours. I reached for my phone and shot Triss a quick text that I had landed in Harmony Grove. She was my best friend and a fellow agent. I turned the device off, not wanting contact with anything outside of there.
“I would love to take a walk alone. Please get my things to the hotel, and I will be showing up right after you,” I told her with a smile, and she nodded. Her company had excellent ratings, and I knew she wouldn’t disappear with my luggage. It was time to get this party started.
A coffee shop appeared on the corner, its inviting aroma wafting through the air like a siren’s call. I stepped in, the bell above the doorchiming softly. The place was cozy, a refuge for those who wanted to live in their own little bubble.
I ordered a latte, and the warmth of the cup was a comforting anchor in my hands. As I waited, I scanned the room, taking in the different kinds of people there. Harmony Grove seemed to harbor its own secrets, and I was eager to find them one by one.
A sip of the coffee brought a rush of familiarity and a sense of normalcy amidst the chaos of change. It was a small joy, but in that moment, it felt profound.
Leaving the coffee shop, I ventured further into the town. The streets were lined with charming buildings, each one more interesting than the last.
The fresh air filled my lungs, cleansing the residual toxicity of my past. I was on the precipice of a new chapter, and Harmony Grove offered the blank canvas I so desperately needed.
The decision to take a walk, to immerse myself in the quiet beauty of the town, proved to be therapeutic. Each step was a declaration of independence, a silent affirmation that I could rebuild my life on my terms. Nobody else mattered, just me.
