Pocketing the key and the half-torn photograph of the couple, Ethan rose, adjusted his backpack, and set off down the hill. Curiosity pressed him forward, each step weighted with questions that had no easy answers. Somewhere in this town—or what was left of it—lay the truth.
Ethan followed the hillside roads with the address looping in his head: 25 Riverside Street. He’d never noticed a Riverside before, but then again, he hadn’t explored much beyond the campus and his rented room. The streets wound narrow and uneven, some fading into dirt paths that seemed forgotten by time.