Welcome to Hell

Sam's POV

The steering wheel slips in my sweaty hands as my car skids around the mountain turn. Rain pounds the glass so hard I can barely see the road. Lightning flashes, and for one scary second, I see a figure standing in the middle of the highway.

I slam on the brakes. My Honda screams to a stop just inches from hitting... nothing. The road is empty.

"What the hell?" I whisper, my heart beating like crazy.

My hands shake as I grip the wheel tighter. I need to get out of this storm. I need to get to Tidewaters before I lose my mind totally. The boxes in my car rattle as I start driving again. Everything I own is in this stupid car. My whole life fits in plastic boxes now.

Another flash of lightning, and I see the sign: "Welcome to Tidewaters, California - Population 3,000."

The rain stops like someone turned off a tap. Just like that. No more noise, no more wind. The sudden silence makes my ears ring. That's not normal. Storms don't just stop like that.

But I keep going because I have nowhere else to go.

Three months ago, I was Detective Samantha Rivera of the LAPD. I had a badge, a gun, and folks respected me. Now I'm just Sam, running away to a tiny town where nobody knows I failed to save a seven-year-old girl named Sofia Mendoza.

I can still see Sofia's face in my dreams. Big brown eyes and a gap-toothed smile. Her mom begged me to find her baby girl. I promised I would bring Sofia home.

I lied.

Sofia vanished from her school playground on a Tuesday. By Friday, I knew the police chief was hiding something. By Monday, I found half the department was taking money to look the other way while bad people did horrible things. By Wednesday, they fired me for asking too many questions.

Sofia is still lost. And it's my fault.

The town spreads out below me like a picture. Pretty houses with white picket walls. A port with fishing boats. Everything looks perfect and quiet. Too perfect.

My phone buzzes. Unknown number.

"Hello?" I answer.

Heavy breathing, then a child's voice: "You can't save me either."

The line goes dead.

My hands start shaking again. Prank call. Has to be. But the voice sounded just like Sofia.

I drive down Main Street, and people stop what they're doing to stare at me. An old woman waters her flowers. A guy walking his dog. Three teens hanging out by the ice cream shop. They all turn to watch my car pass. Their faces have no emotion. They just... stare.

A chill runs up my neck. Small places are supposed to be friendly, right? People are supposed to wave and smile at strangers. These people look at me like I'm carrying the plague.

I park in front of Murphy's Diner. The sign in the window says "Help Wanted - Private Office for Rent Upstairs." Perfect. A place to live and work while I figure out what to do with my messed-up life.

The bell above the door jingles as I walk in. Every talk stops. Twenty people eating lunch all turn to stare at me. The quiet is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"You must be the new girl," says a guy behind the counter. He's about fifty, with gray hair and kind eyes. "I'm Murphy. You're here about the office?"

Finally, someone normal. "Yes, sir. I called yesterday."

"Good time. We need someone around here who knows how to solve problems." Murphy pours me coffee without asking if I want any. "Used to be a cop, right?"

"How did you—"

"Small town. Word travels fast." He leans closer and says, "Be careful who you trust around here. This place has secrets."

Before I can ask what he means, the diner door opens. A tall woman walks in wearing an expensive black coat. She has silver hair pulled back tight and cold blue eyes. Everyone in the diner suddenly gets very interested in their food.

"Ms. Rivera," the woman says. "I'm Eleanor Blackwood. Welcome to Tidewaters."

I didn't tell anyone my name was Rivera. I only used my first name when I called about the job.

"How do you know my last name?"

Eleanor smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I make it my business to know everything about people who come to our town. Especially former police cops who had... trouble... with their previous job."

My stomach drops. She knows about Sofia. She knows about LA. She knows everything.

"I don't know what you've heard, but—"

"Oh, I've heard quite a lot." Eleanor's smile gets bigger and scarier. "I know about the Mendoza case. I know about the corruption you found. I know why you really left Los Angeles."

The coffee cup slips from my hands and crashes to the floor. Hot coffee splashes everywhere, but I barely notice. How could she possibly know all that? I never told anyone the real story.

Eleanor steps closer. "Here's some free advice, Detective Rivera. Find somewhere else to start over. Tidewaters isn't the right place for someone with your... particular skills."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm trying to help you." Eleanor turns to leave, then stops. "Oh, and Ms. Rivera? We've had some recent crashes involving young people. It would be terrible if history repeated itself. Wouldn't you agree?"

She walks out, and slowly the diner comes back to life. People start talking again, but they keep glancing at me like I'm a bomb about to burst.

Murphy refills my coffee cup. "I told you to be careful," he whispers. "Eleanor Blackwood runs this town. Cross her, and bad things happen."

"What kind of bad things?"

"The kind that make people disappear."

That night, I'm unpacking boxes in my new office when my phone rings. Unknown number again.

"Hello?"

The same child's voice: "I'm here. In Tidewaters. Come find me."

"Sofia? Sofia, is that you?"

But the voice that answers isn't Sofia's. It's deeper, older, and it makes my blood turn to ice: "Sofia was just the beginning, Detective. We have so many more."