The ancient floorboards creaked under Mara’s feet as she made her way through the dimly lit attic of Willowbrook Library. Dust motes danced in the thin shafts of afternoon sunlight filtering through grimy windows. She sneezed, waving away a cobweb with one hand while balancing a stack of moldering cardboard boxes in the other.
“You sure you don’t want help with those, Mara?” Sheriff Liam Callahan’s deep voice echoed up the narrow staircase.
“I’ve got it,” Mara called back, setting the boxes down with a thud. “But you’re welcome to come up and keep me company while I sort through this mess.”
Heavy footsteps signaled Liam’s ascent. He ducked his head to clear the low ceiling as he entered the attic, his tall frame filling the cramped space.
“Quite the homecoming, huh?” he said, leaning against a support beam and crossing his arms. “Bet you didn’t expect to be spending your first week back elbow-deep in century-old town records.”
Mara brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, leaving a smudge of dirt on her forehead. “Not exactly how I pictured my triumphant return,” she admitted with a wry smile. “But Mom’s memory isn’t getting any better. Someone needs to preserve all this history before it’s lost for good.”
Liam’s expression softened. “How is Evelyn doing?”
“She has good days and bad days,” Mara sighed, slicing open the top of a box with a letter opener. “This morning she thought I was her sister coming to visit. By lunchtime, she remembered I was her daughter, but couldn’t quite place why I was there.”
“I’m sorry, Mara. That can’t be easy.”
She shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “It is what it is. At least I can do some good while I’m here, starting with organizing this archive.”
Mara began sorting through the contents of the box, setting aside stacks of yellowed newspapers and faded photographs. Liam watched her work in companionable silence for a few minutes before speaking again.
“You know, a lot of folks around here still talk about the day you left,” he said quietly. “Your mom especially. Even on her worst days, she’d tell anyone who’d listen how her brilliant daughter was off conquering the big city.”
Mara’s hands stilled. “I didn’t conquer anything,” she muttered. “Fifteen years and all I have to show for it is a dead-end job, a failed engagement, and enough student debt to last a lifetime.”
“Hey now,” Liam chided gently. “You made something of yourself out there. Got your degree, became a librarian like you always wanted. That’s more than most people from Willowbrook ever do.”
“Maybe,” Mara conceded. She pulled out a leather-bound ledger, its pages brittle with age. “But sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, leaving everything behind.”
Liam opened his mouth to respond, but Mara suddenly gasped. “Liam, look at this,” she breathed, holding up the ledger. “It’s a record of town meetings from the 1950s.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And that’s exciting because…?”
“Because,” Mara explained, flipping through the pages, “there are multiple entries about unexplained disappearances. Listen to this: ‘June 12, 1953 - Emergency meeting called to address concerns over missing persons. Third disappearance in as many months. Sheriff unable to find leads.’”
Liam frowned, moving closer to peer over her shoulder. “I’ve never heard anything about disappearances from back then.”
“There’s more,” Mara continued, her voice hushed. “‘August 30, 1953 - Two more residents vanished this week. Townsfolk demanding answers. Talk of involving state authorities.’ It goes on like this for months, Liam. How is this not common knowledge?”
The sheriff shook his head, bewildered. “I don’t know. Maybe it was hushed up somehow? Or people just… forgot?”
“An entire town doesn’t just forget something like this,” Mara insisted. She closed the ledger carefully, cradling it against her chest. “I need to look into this further. There has to be more information somewhere in these records.”
Liam’s radio crackled to life, startling them both. “Sheriff, we’ve got a situation down at the high school. Some kind of disturbance.”
He sighed, unclipping the radio from his belt. “Copy that. I’m on my way.” Turning back to Mara, he added, “Duty calls. But listen, be careful with this disappearance stuff, alright? Sometimes old secrets are buried for a reason.”
Mara nodded absently, already engrossed in examining another box of documents. Liam watched her for a moment, a mix of concern and something else flickering across his face before he turned and descended the stairs.
Left alone in the attic, Mara lost track of time as she pored over decades-old newspapers and town records. The sun had long since set when she finally stretched, wincing at the stiffness in her back and neck. She gathered up the most promising documents, including the ledger, and made her way downstairs.
The library was dark and silent, moonlight casting long shadows through the windows. Mara was locking up when movement on the street caught her eye. A lanky figure was darting between pools of lamplight, camera in hand.
Curious, Mara stepped outside. “Hello?” she called out. “The library’s closed, but is there something I can help you with?”
The figure froze, then slowly turned to face her. It was a teenage boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with shaggy dark hair and a deer-in-the-headlights expression.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t think anyone was still here.”
Mara smiled, trying to put him at ease. “No worries. I’m Mara, the new librarian. Well, temporary librarian. And you are…?”
“Jacob,” the boy supplied. “Jacob Reed.”
“Nice to meet you, Jacob,” Mara said. “That’s quite a camera you’ve got there. Are you a photographer?”
He shrugged, looking down at the device in his hands. “I guess. Just as a hobby.”
“What kind of things do you like to photograph?”
Jacob hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision. “Can I show you something?” he asked. “It’s… weird. But I don’t know who else to talk to about it.”
Intrigued, Mara nodded. “Of course. Why don’t we step back inside where there’s better light?”
She reopened the library, flicking on a few lamps as Jacob trailed behind her. They settled at a table near the front desk, and Jacob began scrolling through photos on his camera’s display screen.
“I’ve been exploring some of the abandoned houses around town,” he explained. “There’s something about them that just feels… I don’t know, important somehow.”
He turned the camera to show Mara. The photos were haunting and beautiful - crumbling Victorian mansions swallowed by kudzu, sagging farmhouses silhouetted against stormy skies, dust-covered rooms frozen in time.
“These are incredible, Jacob,” Mara breathed. “You have a real talent.”
The boy flushed at the praise. “Thanks. But that’s not what I wanted to show you. It’s this one.”
He pulled up another image. At first glance, it appeared to be a fairly standard shot of a derelict living room. But as Mara looked closer, she felt a chill run down her spine. There, barely visible in the shadows of a doorway, was the distinct outline of a human figure.
“I didn’t see anyone when I took this picture,” Jacob said quietly. “The house was empty. But when I looked at it later…”
Mara leaned in, studying the image intently. The figure was blurry and indistinct, but unmistakably there. “Have you shown this to anyone else?” she asked.
Jacob shook his head. “Who would believe me? They’d just say it was a trick of the light or something.”
“Maybe,” Mara mused. “But maybe not.” She glanced at the stack of documents she’d brought down from the attic, an idea forming. “Jacob, what do you know about the history of Willowbrook? Specifically, has anyone ever mentioned any strange occurrences? Unexplained events?”
The teenager’s brow furrowed. “Not really. I mean, every small town has its ghost stories, I guess. But nothing specific.”
Mara nodded slowly. “What if I told you that in the 1950s, there was a rash of disappearances in Willowbrook? Multiple people vanishing without a trace over the course of several months.”
Jacob’s eyes widened. “Seriously? How come nobody talks about that?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Mara said. She tapped her fingers on the table, thinking. “Listen, Jacob. Would you be willing to help me with something? I need to do more research into these disappearances, but I could use an extra set of eyes. And your photography skills might come in handy.”
A spark of excitement lit up the boy’s face. “Yeah, definitely! What did you have in mind?”
“For starters, I’d like to know more about the house where you took that photo,” Mara said. “Can you show me where it is?”
Jacob nodded eagerly. “Sure thing. It’s actually not far from here.”
“Perfect. Meet me here tomorrow afternoon, say around 3:00? We can go check it out together.”
As Jacob gathered up his camera and prepared to leave, Mara added, “Oh, and Jacob? Let’s keep this between us for now, alright? At least until we know more about what’s going on.”
The boy nodded solemnly. “You got it, Ms. Thorne. See you tomorrow!”
After he left, Mara sank back in her chair, mind racing. Between the ledger’s revelations and Jacob’s eerie photograph, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d stumbled onto something big. Something that had been hidden for a very long time.
She gathered up her things and headed out, locking the library behind her. The drive to her childhood home was short, the streets of Willowbrook quiet and empty at this late hour. As she pulled into the driveway, Mara noticed a light still on in the living room. Her mother must be having another restless night.
Sure enough, when Mara entered the house, she found Evelyn Thorne sitting in her favorite armchair, staring out the window with a distant expression.
“Mom?” Mara called softly. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
Evelyn turned, blinking in confusion. After a moment, recognition dawned in her eyes. “Mara, sweetheart. When did you get here?”
Mara’s heart clenched. “I’ve been here for a few days now, remember? I came to help take care of you.”
“Oh, of course,” Evelyn murmured, though she still looked uncertain. “I’m sorry, dear. My mind isn’t what it used to be.”
“It’s alright, Mom,” Mara assured her, kneeling beside the chair and taking her mother’s hand. “Why don’t we get you to bed? You’ll feel better after some rest.”
As she helped Evelyn to her feet, the older woman suddenly gripped Mara’s arm with surprising strength. “Be careful,” she whispered urgently. “They’re still out there. Watching. Waiting.”
A chill ran through Mara. “Who’s out there, Mom?”
But the moment had passed. Evelyn’s grip loosened, her expression once again vague and confused. “Did you say something, dear? I’m afraid I didn’t catch it.”
Mara swallowed hard, pasting on a smile. “Nothing important. Come on, let’s get you tucked in.”
Later, lying awake in her old bedroom, Mara couldn’t shake her mother’s words. They’re still out there. Was it just the ramblings of a mind clouded by dementia? Or had Evelyn, in a moment of clarity, revealed a secret she’d been carrying for decades?
One thing was certain - Mara wouldn’t rest until she uncovered the truth behind Willowbrook’s hidden history. Little did she know, the truth would prove far stranger and more dangerous than she could have imagined.
The next afternoon found Mara and Jacob trekking through overgrown woods on the outskirts of town. The teenager led the way, occasionally pausing to snap photos of gnarled tree roots or interesting rock formations.
“It should be just up ahead,” Jacob said, pushing aside a tangle of brambles. “Fair warning, it’s pretty creepy.”
They emerged into a small clearing, and Mara’s breath caught in her throat. Before them stood a once-grand Victorian mansion, its paint long since peeled away, windows dark and empty. Vines crawled up the walls, nature slowly reclaiming what man had abandoned.
“This is it,” Jacob confirmed, raising his camera. “The Morrison place. It’s been empty for as long as anyone can remember.”
Mara approached cautiously, leaves crunching under her feet. “Do you know anything about the people who lived here? The Morrisons?”
Jacob shrugged. “Not really. I tried asking my grandparents once, but they got all weird about it. Changed the subject.”
“Interesting,” Mara murmured. She climbed the sagging porch steps, peering through a grimy window. The interior was dark, but she could make out the vague shapes of furniture draped in sheets. “It looks like whoever left did so in a hurry. They didn’t even bother to clear everything out.”
She tried the front door, surprised to find it unlocked. It creaked open ominously.
“Whoa, are we really going in there?” Jacob asked, a mix of excitement and apprehension in his voice.
Mara hesitated. “We probably shouldn’t,” she admitted. “But I need to see the room where you took that photo. Just a quick look, okay? Then we’ll leave.”
Jacob nodded, following close behind as Mara entered the house. The air inside was stale and musty, thick with decades of dust. Their footsteps echoed in the empty foyer.
“It was this way,” Jacob whispered, leading her down a hallway. “In what I think used to be the living room.”
They entered a large, high-ceilinged room. Sheets covered lumpy shapes that Mara assumed were furniture. Wallpaper peeled from the walls in long, curling strips.
“There,” Jacob said, pointing to a doorway on the far side of the room. “That’s where I saw the figure in the photo.”
Mara approached slowly, heart pounding. The doorway led to what appeared to be a study or library, bookshelves lining the walls. She squinted into the gloom, half-expecting to see a shadowy presence materialize before her eyes.
“I don’t see anything,” she said after a moment. “But it definitely feels… off in here. Like we’re being watched.”
Jacob nodded vigorously. “I know, right? That’s how I felt when I was taking pictures. Like something was just out of sight, waiting to–”
A loud crash from upstairs cut him off mid-sentence. They both jumped, Jacob letting out a startled yelp.
“What was that?” he hissed.
Mara’s mind raced. It could have been a raccoon or some other animal that had taken up residence in the abandoned house. But her gut told her otherwise.
“I’m not sure,” she said quietly. “But I think we should leave. Now.”
They hurried back the way they’d come, Mara’s skin crawling with the sensation of unseen eyes upon them. Just as they reached the front door, a floorboard creaked behind them.
Mara whirled around, heart in her throat. For a split second, she could have sworn she saw a dark figure at the end of the hallway. But when she blinked, it was gone.
“Run!” she shouted, shoving Jacob out onto the porch. They sprinted across the overgrown lawn, not stopping until they reached Jacob’s beat-up car parked on the nearest road.
Panting, they leaned against the vehicle, both wide-eyed and shaken.
“What… what just happened?” Jacob gasped.
Mara shook her head, trying to calm her racing pulse. “I don’t know. But I think we just confirmed that there’s definitely something strange going on in this town.”
As they drove back towards town, Mara’s mind whirled with possibilities. The missing persons from the 1950s, her mother’s cryptic warning, the presence in the abandoned house - how were they all connected?
One thing was becoming increasingly clear: the secrets of Willowbrook ran deep, and someone - or something - didn’t want them uncovered.
Over the next few days, Mara threw herself into research with renewed vigor. She combed through every scrap of information she could find about Willowbrook’s history, paying special attention to the period surrounding the disappearances. Jacob proved to be a valuable ally, using his tech-savvy skills to dig up old newspaper archives and public records online.
They worked mostly out of the library after hours, spreading documents across tables and pinning theories to a makeshift corkboard. Mara was careful to pack everything away before leaving each night, not wanting to draw attention to their investigation.
It was during one of these late-night sessions that they had their first real breakthrough.
“Mara, check this out,” Jacob called, waving her over to his laptop. “I think I found something about the Morrison family.”
She leaned in, scanning the article he’d pulled up. It was from a regional newspaper, dated 1954. The headline read: “Local Family Vanishes Without A Trace.”
“According to this,” Jacob explained, “Herbert Morrison, his wife Eleanor, and their two children disappeared sometime in early June. Neighbors reported not seeing them for several days, and when police investigated, they found the house empty. No signs of a struggle, no evidence of foul play. They just… vanished.”
Mara’s brow furrowed. “That fits the timeline of the disappearances mentioned in the town ledger. But why wasn’t this family specifically named in those records?”
“Maybe whoever was keeping the ledger was trying to downplay things?” Jacob suggested. “Or they were told to keep it vague?”
“Possibly,” Mara mused. She pulled out her own notes, flipping through pages of scribbled observations. “You know, I’ve been mapping out the locations of all the known disappearances. They form a kind of circle around the edge of town, with the Morrison house right in the center.”
Jacob’s eyes widened. “Whoa. That can’t be a coincidence, right?”
“I don’t think so,” Mara agreed. “But what it means, I have no idea.”
Just then, the library door swung open with a bang. Mara and Jacob both jumped, whirling to see Sheriff Liam Callahan striding towards them with a thunderous expression.
“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” he demanded.
Mara stepped forward, instinctively placing herself between Liam and Jacob. “Research,” she said calmly. “Last I checked, that wasn’t a crime.”
Liam’s jaw clenched. “Don’t play dumb with me, Mara. I know you’ve been poking around in things best left alone. And now I hear you’re dragging kids into it?” He gestured at Jacob, who shrunk back slightly.
“Jacob’s been helping me of his own free will,” Mara retorted. “And I don’t appreciate your tone, Sheriff. We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You broke into the Morrison house,” Liam snapped. “That’s trespassing, at the very least.”
Mara blinked in surprise. “How did you–”
“Word travels fast in a small town,” Liam cut her off. “Look, I get that you’re trying to… I don’t know, make sense of things. But you’re stirring up trouble, Mara. People are starting to talk.”
“Good,” Mara shot back. “Maybe it’s about time people started talking about what really happened here. About all those people who went missing and were just… forgotten.”
Liam’s expression softened slightly. “I know you think you’re doing the right thing. But trust me, there are some secrets that are better left buried. For everyone’s sake.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jacob piped up, finding his voice. “You know something about all this, don’t you?”
The sheriff’s gaze hardened again. “Go home, Jacob. It’s late, and I’m sure your parents are wondering where you are.”
Jacob looked like he wanted to argue, but Mara placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Once the teenager had gathered his things and left, Mara turned back to Liam. “Alright, out with it. What aren’t you telling me?”
Liam sighed heavily, suddenly looking much older than his forty years. “It’s complicated, Mara. And dangerous. I’ve already said more than I should.”
“Then un-complicate it,” Mara insisted. “Because I’m not going to stop digging until I get some answers.”
The sheriff was quiet for a long moment, conflict clear on his face. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. “Not here,” he said. “Meet me at Sawyer’s Point tomorrow night, around 10:00. I’ll tell you what I know, but you have to promise to drop this after that. Deal?”
Mara hesitated, then nodded. “Deal.”
As Liam turned to leave, Mara called after him. “Hey, Liam? Thank you.”
He paused in the doorway, not looking back. “Don’t thank me yet,” he said softly. Then he was gone, leaving Mara alone with her racing thoughts and growing sense of unease.
The next evening, Mara found herself driving along a winding forest road, the beam of her headlights cutting through the darkness. Sawyer’s Point was a scenic overlook on the outskirts of town, popular with teenagers looking for a secluded makeout spot.
As she pulled into the small parking area, Mara spotted Liam’s patrol car already there. The sheriff was leaning against the hood, staring out at the twinkling lights of Willowbrook spread out below.
“You came,” he said as she approached, not turning to look at her.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
Liam sighed. “Honestly? I was kind of hoping you’d chicken out.”
Mara crossed her arms. “Well, I didn’t. So start talking.”
He was quiet for a long moment, gathering his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and grave. “What do you know about the founding of Willowbrook?”
Mara frowned, caught off guard by the question. “Not much,” she admitted. “Just that it was established in the 1830s by settlers moving west.”
Liam nodded. “That’s the official story. But it’s not the whole truth.” He took a deep breath. “The land Willowbrook was built on… it wasn’t empty when those settlers arrived. There was already something here. Something old. And powerful.”
A chill ran down Mara’s spine. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the reason those people disappeared in the 50s,” Liam said. “The reason your mother warned you to be careful. The reason this town has always felt… different.”
He turned to face her, his expression deadly serious. “Willowbrook sits on a convergence of ley lines - channels of mystical energy that crisscross the earth. The original settlers didn’t know that when they built here, but they figured it out pretty quick when strange things started happening.”
Mara’s mind reeled. This couldn’t be real. And yet… it would explain so much. “What kind of strange things?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
“Visions. Unexplained phenomena. People going missing, only to return days or weeks later with no memory of where they’d been.” Liam ran a hand through his hair. “The town elders at the time made a decision. They would harness the power of the ley lines to protect Willowbrook, to make it prosper. But there was a price.”
“The disappearances,” Mara breathed.
Liam nodded grimly. “Every so often, the… entity, I guess you’d call it, that guards the convergence demands a sacrifice. In exchange, it keeps Willowbrook safe and thriving.”
Mara felt sick. “And people just… went along with this?”
“Most didn’t know the full truth,” Liam explained. “Still don’t. It’s been passed down through certain families, kept secret to protect the town.”
“Like your family,” Mara realized. “That’s how you know all this.”
The sheriff nodded. “My great-grandfather was one of the elders who made the original pact. The duty of maintaining it has been passed down ever since.”
Mara’s head spun with the implications. “So all those people who vanished… the Morrisons…”
“Sacrifices,” Liam confirmed quietly. “Chosen by the entity itself. We don’t control who it takes or when.”
“This is insane,” Mara muttered, pacing back and forth. “Why are you telling me all this now?”
Liam’s expression was pained. “Because I think you’ve drawn its attention, Mara. You and that Reed kid. By digging into the past, by visiting the Morrison house… you’ve put yourselves in danger.”
Fear gripped Mara’s heart. “What do you mean? What’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Liam admitted. “But the signs are there. The way you described feeling watched in that house? The figure you thought you saw? Classic precursors to a taking.”
Mara felt like she might be sick. “So what do we do? How do we stop it?”
Liam shook his head. “We don’t. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Mara. Once the entity sets its sights on someone, there’s no changing its mind. The best thing you can do now is leave town. Get as far away from Willowbrook as you can.”
“And just abandon my mother?” Mara demanded. “Abandon Jacob? I can’t do that, Liam.”
“You might not have a choice,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, Mara. I truly am. But I’ve told you everything I can. What you do with that information is up to you.”
With that, he pushed off from his car and headed for the driver’s side door. “Be careful,” he called over his shoulder. “And… goodbye, Mara.”
She watched him drive away, mind reeling. Part of her wanted to dismiss everything Liam had said as the ravings of a madman. But deep down, she knew he was telling the truth. It explained too much to be a lie.
As Mara got back in her own car, hands shaking, she realized she had a decision to make. She could run, try to save herself. Or she could stay and fight, even if she didn’t know exactly what she was fighting against.
In the end, it wasn’t really a choice at all. Mara had spent fifteen years running from Willowbrook. She wasn’t about to start again now.
The drive home was a blur, Mara’s thoughts racing faster than her car. By the time she pulled into her mother’s driveway, she had the beginnings of a plan forming.
She found Evelyn in the kitchen, methodically arranging and rearranging a set of teacups on the counter.
“Mom?” Mara called softly. “What are you doing up so late?”
Evelyn turned, blinking in confusion. “Oh, Mara dear. I was just… I can’t seem to remember.”
Mara’s heart ached. She crossed the room and gently took her mother’s hands. “It’s okay, Mom. Why don’t we sit down? There’s something I need to ask you about.”
She led Evelyn to the living room, settling her into her favorite armchair. Kneeling beside it, Mara took a deep breath. “Mom, I need you to focus, okay? This is important. What do you know about the… the entity that protects Willowbrook?”
Evelyn’s eyes widened, a flash of fear crossing her face. “How do you know about that?” she whispered.
“Liam told me,” Mara explained. “But I need to know more. You tried to warn me before, remember? You said ’they’ were still out there.”
For a moment, Evelyn’s gaze grew distant. Then, with startling clarity, she focused on Mara. “It’s not a ’they,’ sweetheart. It’s an it. A single consciousness, vast and ancient. It was here long before us, and it’ll be here long after.”
Mara leaned in, heart pounding. “What does it want? Why does it take people?”
“To feed,” Evelyn said simply. “It consumes their essence, their potential. In exchange, it grants the town prosperity and protection.”
“But that’s horrible,” Mara protested. “How can anyone justify that?”
Evelyn’s expression turned sad. “Oh, my dear. You don’t understand. Without the entity’s protection, Willowbrook would have fallen to ruin long ago. The price is high, yes. But the alternative is worse.”
Mara shook her head, struggling to process it all. “There has to be another way. Some way to break this… this pact.”
“Many have tried,” Evelyn murmured. “None have succeeded.” Her gaze sharpened suddenly, focusing intently on Mara. “You’ve drawn its attention, haven’t you? I can see the mark on you.”
A chill ran down Mara’s spine. “What do you mean, ‘mark’?”
But Evelyn’s moment of lucidity was fading. She patted Mara’s hand absently, her eyes growing distant once more. “Such a good girl,” she mumbled. “Always trying to help. Just like your father.”
Mara sat back on her heels, mind whirling. She had more questions now than ever, but at least she was starting to understand the scope of what she was dealing with.
She needed to warn Jacob, to make sure he understood the danger they were in. And then… then she needed to find a way to stop this thing, once and for all.
As Mara helped her mother to bed, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was running out of time. The entity was watching, waiting. And soon, it would make its move.
The next morning dawned grey and drizzly, matching Mara’s mood perfectly. She’d barely slept, her dreams plagued by shadowy figures and whispered warnings.
As soon as it was a reasonable hour, she called Jacob. “Meet me at the library in an hour,” she told him. “It’s urgent.”
While she waited for the teenager to arrive, Mara paced the stacks, mind racing. How could she possibly explain all of this to Jacob? Would he even believe her?
The sound of the front door opening jolted her from her thoughts. Jacob appeared around a bookshelf, looking worried. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Your message sounded serious.”
Mara took a deep breath. “It is serious. Sit down, Jacob. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Over the next half hour, she laid out everything she’d learned - the entity, the sacrifices, the danger they were both in. To his credit, Jacob listened without interrupting, his expression growing more grave with each revelation.
When she finished, he was quiet for a long moment. “So… what do we do now?” he finally asked.
Mara blinked, surprised. “You believe me? Just like that?”
Jacob shrugged. “After everything we’ve seen? The weird feeling in that house, the figure in my photo… yeah, I believe you. It’s crazy, but it makes a weird kind of sense.”
Relief washed over Mara. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been dreading trying to convince him. “Okay,” she said. “Well, first things first - we need to figure out how to protect ourselves. My mom mentioned something about a ‘mark’ that shows the entity has chosen someone. We need to research that, see if there’s a way to counteract it.”
Jacob nodded, already pulling out his laptop. “I’m on it. What else?”
“We need to find out more about this convergence of ley lines,” Mara continued. “Maybe if we can disrupt it somehow, we can weaken the entity’s connection to Willowbrook.”
They spent the next several hours buried in research, combing through occult websites and obscure historical texts. By mid-afternoon, they had the beginnings of a plan.
“Okay, so according to this,” Jacob said, gesturing at his screen, “ley lines can be redirected using certain rituals and artifacts. If we could shift the convergence point away from Willowbrook…”
“…we might be able to break the entity’s hold on the town,” Mara finished. “It’s worth a shot, at least. The question is, where would the convergence point be?”
They looked at each other, realization dawning simultaneously. “The Morrison house,” they said in unison.
Mara nodded grimly. “It makes sense. It’s at the center of all the disappearances, and it’s where we both felt that… presence.”
“So what’s the plan?” Jacob asked. “We go back there and perform some kind of ritual?”
“Not quite,” Mara said. “First, we need to gather the necessary components. According to that grimoire you found,