No turning back now. Sam exhaled as her dark green Jeep crawled onto the driveway. Rain obscured her stepfather's brick ranch house—smaller than she remembered. She cut the engine, replacing the mechanical hum with the soft hiss of drizzle. Her hand cramped as she reached for the jacket, fingers slow to uncurl after gripping the steering wheel for hours. She rocked forward twice before generating enough momentum to push herself up from the driver's seat. The door frame served as a crutch while she unfolded her body, vertebrae crackling like bubble wrap as she straightened.
Wind drove the rain against her as she crossed the lawn, tiny rivulets streaming down her shoulders. At the porch, she paused, her finger hovering over the doorbell. Its brass surface was pitted with age, like her memories of this place. She pressed it before she could change her mind.
Lilly swung open the door, her blue eyes bright against the afternoon gloom. “Sam! You’re early,” she said, tugging at her faded Nirvana T-shirt and brushing a stray lock of blonde hair back behind her ear. She glanced at Sam’s soaked jacket, then pulled her into a quick hug. “You're getting water everywhere.”
“That’s what I’m here for Lillypad,” Sam replied with a smirk, shaking droplets onto the tiled floor as she wriggled free from Lilly’s grip.
"I'm EIGHTEEN!" Lilly shot back, rolling her eyes. "You seriously need to drop that stupid nickname already." She gave Sam a sarcastic smirk, flipped her hair in a dramatic fashion, and then bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
“Let me grab my stuff. I’ll be right down,” Lilly called, already halfway to her room.
Sam glanced back at the entryway, her smile disappearing when she noticed her stepfather, Alan Peterson, who was Lilly's biological father, coming out of the hallway. His presence seemed to fill the small foyer, a contrast to the restrained lines of his careful, quiet words.
“Hello Samantha, so you've committed to this?” Alan, folded his arms, a mixture of concern and disbelief creasing his weathered face. His eyes searched Sam's, waiting for some sign of doubt.
She paused, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her well-worn messenger bag. “I need to see the bookstore again before it closes. Besides, Lilly and I need to go through the books there and decide what to keep and what to auction off.” Her voice carried a conviction that was almost convincing.
“You really want to go back there after all these years?” Alan’s question lingered between them, heavy with unspoken memories. Sam brushed a brown curl from her face, hesitating. The rain drummed a steady beat on the roof, punctuating the silence. “I have to,” she said, more to herself than to him.
Alan unfolded his arms, his worry softening into resignation. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing toward the stairs where Lilly’s footsteps echoed. “Just promise me you’ll watch out for each other.”
Sam nodded, her jaw set with determination. “I will.” Her words were firm, but the look they exchanged was more fragile, filled with the things neither of them could say.
Lilly emerged at the top of the stairs, a vibrant contrast to the subdued tension below. She took the steps two at a time, a bulging duffel slung over her shoulder. “Ready?” she asked, excitement edging her voice as she came to a breathless stop beside them.
Sam ruffled Lilly’s hair, a mixture of affection and envy at her sister’s unclouded enthusiasm. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, offering an encouraging smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She could see Alan in her peripheral vision—still as a statue except for his eyes, which never left her.
"Don’t forget to eat while you're traveling," Alan reminded them, ever the pragmatist, his voice filled with concern as they stepped out through the doorway.
The rain had intensified, blurring the outlines of the neighborhood as Sam and Lilly ducked outside. Alan lingered on the porch, watching as they settled into the Jeep. Sam adjusted her cat eye glasses, wiping a fogged lens on her sleeve. Her heart beat a rhythm of anxious determination, a contrast to Lilly’s carefree eagerness. She hesitated, key in the ignition, glancing once more at Alan standing like a worried ghost of their past.
“Come on,” Lilly urged, shaking water from her ponytail. “You look like you’re having second thoughts.”
“Not a chance,” Sam replied, though a flicker of uncertainty lingered in her voice. She twisted the key, and the Jeep rumbled to life, rain streaking the windshield as they pulled away.
"Bye, Dad!" Lilly shouted, her hand fluttering in a frantic wave out the window.
Sam glanced at the rearview mirror. Alan was still there, a fading figure on the porch, his gentle, stoic form growing smaller as they disappeared into the gray afternoon. The rain followed them, a steady, persistent companion on the road to Peachtree Hollow.
Sam and Lilly drove down the street about a mile from the house, deciding now to stop for essential road fuel. The yellow light from the store’s neon sign flickered overhead as Sam parked the Jeep beneath Willow's Convenience. She squinted into the gloom of the small lot, feeling the eyes of a bored attendant on them. Her fingers itched to be wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee.
"Why don't you and Dad get along?" Lilly asked, her voice tinged with concern. Sam killed the engine, letting the rain's patter fill the silence. "When Mom passed away, everything fell apart. I wasn't easy to deal with."
"You didn't abandon me," Lilly said, her voice small against the drumming on the roof. Sam met her sister's eyes. "You sure you want to hear this?" Lilly nodded, her fingers twisting in her lap.
"Alan and I were at war. Bad grades, messy room, staying out late—classic teenage rebellion shit." Sam traced a raindrop's path down the window. "He couldn't handle me while caring for you, so he shipped me off to Dad's. Just a few blocks away at first, but when Alan moved you both from Peachtree Hollow..." Her voice hardened. "That was unforgivable."
"But you eventually moved even further away," Lilly said. The unspoken accusation hung between them.
"NYU acceptance letter came, and I ran." Sam's hand found Lilly's. "My dad followed me to New York."
Lilly's fingers tightened around Sam's. "I missed you."
"I missed you too." Sam squeezed back. "I can't change what happened, but I'm here now."
Lilly's smile eased the tension between them. She nodded toward the store. "Shall we?"
Sam tugged her collar against the rain as they approached the dingy entrance. The corrugated awning dripped in a persistent rhythm, but it couldn't contain the smell that wafted out to greet them—stale coffee mingled with the acrid scent of burnt microwave popcorn. The door swung open with Sam's push, announcing them with an anemic bell jingle. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like trapped insects, casting a sickly glow over walls of cheap merchandise. Sam's stomach knotted with recognition. Nothing had changed—the cigarette smell lingering despite No Smoking signs, faded tabloids stacked in precarious towers, and the emptiness of a business hanging on by threads. Her shoes stuck slightly to the peeling linoleum that curled at the corners.
"Grab some snacks and drinks?" Lilly drifted toward a candy display.
"Sure, you do that." Sam headed for the cooler, each step echoing in the empty store. They split up, Lilly tossing a bag of sour gummy worms and Doritos into her basket, while Sam collected bottled water and a few energy bars. At the end of the aisle, an old coffee pot steamed beside the register. Sam grabbed a cup, filling it with the dark brew of life, feeling its warmth seep through the thin paper and into her cold hands. She looked over at Lilly, who was inspecting a rack of postcards featuring outdated images of nearby attractions.
“Have everything you need?” Sam called, watching her sister with a mix of affection and impatience.
"Almost!" Lilly shouted back, adding powdered doughnuts to her growing stash. Her carefree attitude reminded Sam of how different their perspectives were on this trip. For Lilly, it was an adventure; for Sam, a complicated knot of history and obligation.
They met at the counter, the clerk remaining engrossed in his magazine as he rang up their items with mechanical precision. She looked around again, the rundown condition of the store mirroring her thoughts about Peachtree Hollow.
A sudden memory jolted Sam. She dug into her messenger bag and withdrew a small package—corners crisp, folds precise, the wrapping as methodical as her father would demand.
"What's this?" Lilly's eyes widened as she took the parcel.
Sam leaned closer, voice dropping. "Something I want you to have before we reach Peachtree Hollow."
Paper tore under Lilly's eager fingers. Her eyebrows shot up as she revealed a slim pocket knife, its blade gleaming under the fluorescent lights. The wooden handle bore her initials “L.A.P.”, engraved with painstaking detail on the blade guard.
"A knife?" Confusion flickered across Lilly's face.
"Protection." Sam's eyes darted to the clerk, trying to gauge if he was listening. "Peachtree Hollow has changed since you left." The words carried weight Sam hadn't intended, laden with years of secrets she couldn't articulate.
Lilly turned the knife over, catching Sam's unspoken warning. She tucked it into her backpack with uncharacteristic care. "This feels excessive. What aren't you telling me about our hometown?"
Sam chose not to answer. Instead, she paid for the water and tucked the energy bars into her bag. Lilly watched her, sensing the burden that weighed heavily on both of them.
They stepped back outside, the sky a swirling mass of dark clouds, like a warning of things to come. Sam’s unease seemed to seep into the air around them, each step measured as they returned to the Jeep. She pulled her jacket tighter, almost as if she was trying to cocoon herself from the world.
“I know things have been…difficult, but it’s going to be fine, right?” Lilly said as she climbed into the passenger seat, trying to sound as certain as she wished she felt.
“It’s just better to be prepared,” Sam replied, a hint of doubt shadowing her voice.
They pulled away, the convenience store shrinking in the distance, its battered facade leaving a lingering sense of foreboding in its wake.
The Jeep’s tires thrummed along the uneven highway, echoing the steady beat of Sam’s growing unease. She adjusted her glasses and stole a glance at Lilly, who was thumbing through what looked like TikTok videos. The trees blurred past them, tall sentinels standing watch over the two-lane road, their shadows slicing through the muted light and settling across Sam’s shoulders. She flexed her hands on the wheel, the vibration mingling with the steady patter of rain on the roof.
"It's been forever since I took this drive," Sam said, her voice lost beneath the engine's steady hum.
“Were you even old enough to remember?” Lilly teased, grabbing the powdered doughnuts out of the paper bag.
Sam smirked, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “You were the one just barely out of diapers back then.”
Lilly laughed, a bright sound that lightened the somber air. Sam offered her a sip of the convenience store coffee, careful not to spill as Lilly leaned over the console to take it. Sam’s thoughts drifted with the aroma, memories resurfacing like familiar landmarks along their route.
“Mom used to take me past Ravencrest Manor and the other old houses when I was around ten, told me stories about Emil Ravencrest’s inventions,” Sam began, her words rolling out in a mixture of affection and melancholy. The name felt foreign and intimate at the same time.
“I never had that experience,” Lilly confessed, lifting her gaze to the passing trees. “I was too young, I guess.”
Sam’s expression softened, the distance between past and present collapsing in her mind. “That’s why I’m nervous,” she admitted. “So many memories, and not all of them good.”
They shared a silence, weighted and familiar. Lilly reached across the console, squeezing Sam’s hand with a tenderness that belied her age. “We’ll make new ones,” Lilly promised. “Together.”
The road wound through dense pines, and Sam was drawn into thoughts that tangled like the branches overhead. “You think the bookstore will be like we remember?” Lilly asked, sipping from the cup, careful not to burn her tongue.
“Not sure,” Sam replied, her mind spinning with possibilities. “Mom always made it sound so... epic.”
“Emil Ravencrest, the mysterious inventor,” Lilly mused, her tone half-mocking, half-intrigued. “Maybe he’s still lurking in the attic.”
Sam laughed, a genuine sound that surprised her. “I wouldn’t put it past him. His whole family was a little off.”
“You’d know better than me,” Lilly said. “I just remember not being allowed to wander off. Seemed like Mom was always worried.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed, the suspicion gnawing at her. What if she had missed something important? Her mom was secretive sometimes and questions simmered beneath her words. “What do you think she was so afraid of?” she asked.
Lilly shrugged, a mix of innocence and knowing. “Probably losing one of us in those giant bookshelves. I did climb on them a few times, almost knocking it over on myself.”
Sam nodded, pondering what she missed most about the small town. Lilly's laughter helped relax her, but Sam's thoughts raced ahead, contemplating what awaited them in Peachtree Hollow.
“You’re the expert, right?” Lilly said, nudging Sam’s shoulder with mock seriousness. “How much money do you think we will get from auctioning off all of those books?”
“Is that why you’re coming?” Sam asked, her curiosity genuine. “To hope to get as much money as you can out of the bookstore before it is shut down?”
“That,” Lilly grinned, “and I missed you, believe it or not.”
Sam felt the warmth of Lilly’s words, the sincerity in her sister’s playful tone. “Yeah, me too,” she admitted.
Lilly paused and then said, “After all this is supposed to help pay for my college and also help pay off your student debt.”
Sam’s look turned to one of concern,“Just remember, I’m here if things get rough.”
“Like with school?” Lilly’s face lit with a blend of excitement and apprehension. “Classes don’t start for a few months. I’ve got plenty of time to freak out about college.”
“Not gonna lie,” Sam said, her voice teasing but supportive. “It’s going to be a wild ride.”
“I know, but I’m ready,” Lilly declared, a spark of determination in her eyes. “And if it gets too crazy, I’ll just come hide at your place in New York.”
They exchanged a knowing look, the possibility of shared adventures filling the space between them. Sam eased the Jeep over a narrow bridge, the rain-slick surface spraying water to either side. Her heart pounded with a mixture of dread and anticipation.
“Here we go,” Sam murmured as the sign for Peachtree Hollow came into view. The letters loomed large, ghostly in the mist, a gateway to everything she was seeking and fleeing.
Peachtree Hollow waited, silent and expectant.