TW: The topic of infertility and the struggle to conceive is briefly mentioned in this chapter. In no way have I intended to hurt anyone, but if this may be too sensitive for you, please look for the black asterisks (*)
The longest walk home that any parent will ever take is the one after their child has "run" ahead of them. - Unknown
Finally, the day of Miranda's funeral had arrived. It's been about a month and a half since she was found.
The days leading up to it, the halls of our school were quiet and somber, a stark contrast to when Miranda roamed them.
People almost resembled zombies. They were simply sticking to what they knew. What felt safe.
The entire town had been invited. Apparently her parents thought of it as a way to "heal our town", collectively mourning the loss of one of its members.
Many fathers dreamed of, and slightly dreaded, walking their daughters down the aisle.
Today Mr. Hutchins would do exactly that. Though not in the way he imagined, I'd assume.
Instead of his daughter, smiling ear to ear, in her wedding gown, she was lying in a casket. Never having the chance to choose a career, find love, get married and have kids.
All because someone chose to play God and cut her life tragically short.
Fiddling with the hem of my black dress, I looked around at everyone who'd gathered already.
The service didn't start for another half hour, but mom insisted we arrive early.
After a few seconds of scanning the room, I located Jon at the front, near where the casket rested. He stood with his parents, shifting his weight between his feet as his parents conversed with Miranda's, likely offering their condolences.
Jon must have felt my eyes on him as he raised his head, his eyes finding mine, a large smile plastering on his face, showcasing his gorgeous dimples.
"Hey mom," I said as she paused her conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher. "I'm going to go talk to Jon."
"Alright sweetheart. I'll find our seats when I'm done here."
"Okay. Bye Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher. Have a nice evening."
As I walked away I heard Mrs. Thatcher say, "Your daughter has grown up to be a wonderful, and beautiful, young woman. You two did a god job with her."
I smiled, half from the comment and half because Jon had met me halfway down the aisle.
Just before we were actually face to face, a long mane of white-blonde hair smacked me across the face.
Only two people in town have that colour hair. Kirsty and her mother, Karen.
However, judging by how their back was to me and the shorter stature, I knew it was Kirsty.
I opened my mouth, completely ready to confront her when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Judging by the hair colour, I knew it was Kirsty Sr.
"Karen," I nodded, trying to avoid a scene.
"Harley Masterson." She said, circling around me. "I hoped you would heed my advice. But whispers tell me that is not the case."
"Why are you so concerned about what I'm doing? You're not my mother and I'm sure you know how much your daughter despises me." I leaned closer as she came to a stop in front of me. "What's your game?"
YOU ARE READING
The Vanishing Girls Of Willow Creek (Willow Creek, #1)
Mystery / Thriller*Editing* In the small town of Willow Creek, nestled among the rolling hills and whispering trees, lies a dark secret that has haunted its residents for generations. Over the years, more than a hundred young women and girls have vanished without a t...
