Moonlit Novella

Chapter Six – Part Two

The feeling of being watched didn’t fade.

Ivy sat frozen, fingers curled in the damp sand, breath shallow as her gaze swept over the lake’s silent expanse. The moonlight barely touched the surface, its reflection swallowed by the impending darkness.

The waves crawled up the shore, lapping at the edges of her boots, reaching for her fingertips where they pressed into the sand.

A thought forced itself to the front of her mind.

What the hell was she doing?

She had just left a crime scene. A man was missing. Blood stained the alley behind the general store. And here she was, alone, on an empty beach, in the middle of the night. The thought struck her like lightening.

Suddenly, the air around her was suffocating.

Ivy pushed to her feet, brushing the sand from her palms. She needed to leave.

She turned slowly, eyes trailing toward the only way back.

The wooden staircase leading up to the downtown pier was just beyond the trees, tucked into the undergrowth. The trail wasn’t long, it was only a few yards, but the darkness beneath the canopy felt heavier now, like a black sheet hiding something beneath it.

She forced herself to move, pacing toward the treeline.

The night air pressed in around her, full of moisture and the faint scent of lake water and pine. Her boots sank into the sand before meeting the firmer earth of the trail, the dirt path damp beneath her steps.

Something behind her rustled.

She whipped her head toward the sound, heart hammering, eyes searching the dense tangle of trees.

Nothing.

Just the hush of wind through the branches, the distant echo of water lapping against the shore.

She wasn’t running, but she wasn’t moving slow, either.

Just keep going.

The wooden staircase came into view: a weathered set of planks climbing the small embankment toward the pier above. She took the first step, her boots creaking against the wood.

A twig snapped close by.

Ivy froze mid-step, heart launching into her throat.

Something was there.

She turned, pulse hammering against her ribs. The treeline was still, the shadows shifting with the wind. She scanned the darkness, every muscle in her body tense.

She forced herself to breathe. It’s nothing. It’s just your imagination.

Turning back, she climbed faster, her boots heavy against the steps until, finally, she reached the top. The moment her foot hit pavement, she exhaled sharply, hands shaking as she smoothed them down her coat.

The sidewalk stretched ahead, the soft glow of streetlights spilling pools of golden light onto the cracked concrete. The town was quiet, but not in the same way as the lake. The hum of life still lingered here, even if most of Ashford Hollow had already turned in for the night.

She knew exactly where she was headed.

——

The warmth hit her first.

Stepping into the Hollow Pint was like surfacing from ice-cold water. The low murmur of conversation, the tinge of spiced whiskey in the air, the golden glow of dimmed sconces; it was grounding in a way she hadn’t expected.

A handful of locals were scattered across the booths and barstools, some hunched over drinks, others leaning into quiet conversation. The place wasn’t crowded, but it was alive. It felt safe.

Ivy sighed, tension easing slightly as she peeled off her coat.

Then her gaze landed on him.

Chief Mercer was seated off to the corner of the bar alone, one elbow braced against the polished wood. His hazel eyes flicked up to her, assessing her, like he already knew something was off.

Ivy hesitated, pulse still unsteady from the lake.

And then she moved toward him