In the feverish heat of 1929, Beatrice Grace was involved in a tragic incident- a drowning by the lake where she spent her childhood. As one of the few who had seen Evelyn Young in her last moments, she became trapped in a web of whispers, secrets...
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Winthrop's Hollow. 1929
The withered ash tree strained against the breeze, stretching its twisted limbs towards the seamless blue sky. The light summer wind carried the trickles of laughter down by the lake.
It was a hot feverish day and under the oppressive gaze of the sun, the girls had taken refuge in the lake by the woods. Evelyn laughed, a bright sparkling noise. "You're awfully happy today," Annie commented, twisting her fair wet hair into a plait.
Evelyn smirked, parting her painted red lips. "Why wouldn't I be? It's the height of the summer and everything is lovely. I'm young and beautiful and in love. Nothing could possibly go wrong."
Frances snickered, dipping her feet beneath the cool glassy surface of the lake. "Don't say that Evelyn dear. At least not with Jinx here. She has the most terrible luck you know."
Evelyn barely looked up, her dark eyes fixed on the watery mirror, gazing down at her own reflection. "It barely matters. Not even Jinx can ruin this. Everything is finally falling into place," she muttered.
Beatrice blushed a mortified red and stood up, brushing the edge of her starch white skirt. "Who is he then? The boy you're in love with?"
The other girl stared at her smugly, a hand on her hips. "I wouldn't tell you. Secrets are so interesting. They keep you guessing and nothing's more tantalizing than the promise of a hidden truth."
"You're awful. You and your boys and your midnight kisses. We're your best friends for God's sake, confide in us!" Annie said.
"There is a secret worth sharing however," Evelyn whispered temptingly. "Meet me by the old ash tree at midnight."
"If you're just going to hide and scare the living out of us again, I'm not going to bother," Frances yawned.
"You know there's no such thing as ghosts right?" Evelyn teased.
Frances shot her a glare before resuming the daisy chain she was weaving.
"Follow the candlelight and meet me here. There's something you will all be aching to know."
