2- The town of Grayhaven
CLAIRE
I drove into the town very slowly. Finally, I had arrived in Grayhaven, but it seemed my presence drew a few curious eyes. The tires of my car crunched on the wet stones, and people couldn’t help but notice me.
Fog was all around. It covered the streets like a big, soft blanket.
It curled around the lampposts and the corners of the cobblestone roads. It made the world look small and quiet, like I was in a hidden little bubble.
I slowed the car even more, gripping the wheel tightly. The fog made everything hazy, as though I was driving through a dream. I noticed the houses had small porches with rocking chairs, many empty and swaying slightly in the window.
One of the first things I noticed was how strange the town felt and how oddly the people were dressed. Everyone wore old-fashioned clothes—long coats, hats pulled low, scarves wrapped tight around their necks.
They stared at me as if I didn’t belong, and the fog made them look even weirder, like moving shadows. i could feel their eyes on me. The whole town felt eerie, quiet, and unsettling, like it was holding its breath.
Either way, I had to get to the inn. I reduced my speed, rolled down the window, and searched for anyone who might give me directions.
I decided to speak to a man in a long coat, leaning on a crooked cane. “Excuse me,” I said politely, “can you tell me where the Grayhaven Inn is?”
He didn’t look at me. He just muttered, “Nope,” and shuffled past.
I blinked, surprised. Maybe I misheard him. I tried again with a woman carrying a basket. “Please, can you help me find the inn?”
She gave me a quick glance, her eyes were wide and filled with suspicious, and whispered, “I… I don’t know,” then hurried on, head down.
My stomach tightened. Every person I tried to speak to either ignored me or seemed almost afraid. I felt like I had wandered into a town that didn’t want visitors. I was about to give up when I heard a small voice.
“You’re lost, aren’t you?”
I looked down and saw a little boy, maybe seven or eight. His coat was old,and his hair plastered to his forehead with rain. But his eyes were bright and curious, and he stared at me without any fear.
“Yes,” I said, “I am. Can you tell me where the inn is?”
He pointed down a narrow street. “That way. You can’t miss it. Big sign. Only one inn.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Are you sure?”
He nodded seriously. “Yep. Don’t get lost.”
“Do you live here?” I asked, curious.
The boy shrugged. “I live here. Folks don’t say much to new people. But I don’t mind helping.” He gave me a big grin, and I saw he was missing a front tooth.
I smiled back. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you.”
He waved and ran away, I drove slowly down the street he had shown me. The fog wrapped around the road, and my headlights cut small yellow holes through it.
The houses here leaned even closer together, almost touching, like they were whispering secrets. Their windows looked like empty eyes, and their old shutters banged softly in the wind. My skin prickled. It felt like someone was always watching, even when no one was there.
Finally, I saw the inn. It was small, a little crooked, with a wooden sign swinging on rusty chains. Warm yellow light glowed inside, it felt like a safe little island in the cold fog.
I parked my car and stepped out. Then I pressed the doorbell. It gave a sharp ring that echoed down the empty street. A few seconds later, the door creaked open.
A woman stood there. She was older, maybe in her sixties, with gray hair pulled into a tight bun. She had sharp, dark eyes that seemed to look straight through me. Pinned to her sweater was a small brass name tag that read: MRS. ELLERY – INNKEEPER.
“Thank you,” I said, relief was washing over me. “It’s… quiet here.”
“Yes,” she said, her smile was thin and tight, it did not quite reach her dark eyes. “Too quiet for some people. Grayhaven likes it that way.” She leaned closer than necessary,. “Where are you coming from, dear? Do tell me everything.”
“Los Angeles,” I said cautiously. “I… just needed a place to stay. Somewhere quiet.”
Her eyes sharpened, she was scanning me as if she could see straight through me “Quiet, hmm? But why here? Visiting someone? Meeting someone? Or… hiding from something?”
I felt uncomfortable. “I’m a private detective now,” I said carefully. “Small cases. I needed a fresh start.”
Her head tilted, studying me like a cat watches a mouse. “A detective,” she whispered, almost to herself. “Not many strangers come here. People in Grayhaven notice… everything. They talk. They watch. Always. You must be careful, dear. Very careful.”
I forced a polite nod, though a shiver ran down my spine. Her intensity made me uneasy.
She handed me a brass key, her fingers brushing mine a moment too long. “Room three. Up the stairs. Don’t wander. The fog hides more than you think… and some things are better left unseen.”
I took the key quickly, my stomach twisting. Her eyes followed me up the creaking stairs. Even at the top, I could feel her watching—and I did not like it.
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The room was small, with a window overlooking the foggy street. The rain continued to fall, blurring the leaning houses below. I set my bag down and let myself sink onto the bed, exhausted. The town to me,was strange, cold, and distant,
I decided to step closer to the window. The fog twisted around the leaning roofs. Shadows moved, but I didn’t know if they were people, trees, or just tricks of the fog. Then a little light flickered outside my window. And just like that, it was gone.
I held my breath. My heart pounded fast.
“Hello?” I whispered. No one answered. Only the wind and the soft rain made noise, rustling through the eaves..
I stepped back from the window, clutching my arms around myself. Grayhaven was quiet, almost too quiet. The town seemed to keep its secrets tightly, like a living being.
I backed away from the glass, but the hairs on my arms stayed raised. The silence pressed in, it was almost thick as the fog outside.
And then, I felt it—that slow, cold feeling
Someone was watching me. Not from the street. Not from the window. From closer.
Much closer.