Whispers of the River
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the winding road that led into Willow Creek. Sam gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles paling as the car rumbled over the uneven pavement. Beside him, Lily leaned forward, eyes wide as she scanned the familiar yet somehow different horizon. Behind them, Eli fidgeted in the backseat, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm against the door.
“Can you believe we’re finally here?” Sam’s voice broke the quiet, tinged with excitement but shadowed by a hint of nervousness. He stole a glance at his friends through the rearview mirror.
Lily smirked, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Feels like we’ve been driving forever. I swear, I saw the same tree three times on that last stretch.”
Eli groaned, stretching his legs out between the seats. “If you two don’t shut up, I’m going to start thinking this was a terrible idea.”
The car rounded a bend, and suddenly the town spilled into view. Willow Creek was a cluster of weathered wooden houses and quaint shops, nestled snugly between dense woods that seemed to press close like watchful guardians. The river shimmered in the distance, its surface catching the dying…