Grief never happens in the same manner twice.Some people experience it like a storm—loud, intense, and impossible to ignore. For some, it settles silently, like a dense fog that refuses to lift.For Lena Hart, it seemed like silence. The kind of silence that accompanied her everywhere. It accompanied her into the empty kitchen every morning, where two seats would never again be occupied. It followed her into the hallway, where family portraits remained on the walls, smiling as if nothing had changed.
And now, on a frigid Monday morning in early March 2007, it follows her to Rothswood High.The automobile engine shut down with a gentle click. For a minute, Lena remained motionless.Outside the window, kids moved in small groups around the parking lot, laughing, talking, and going about their daily activities. Normal. The word seems strange today. Her twin sister sat beside her in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead through the windscreen. Lyra Hart looked almost identical to Lena. Same dark hair. Same lovely brown eyes. The same face that so many people in town had previously described as attractive.
However, grief had affected them both in different ways. Lyra appeared sharp, like a sword grasped too tightly, in contrast to Lena's worn and lifeless appearance. Lyra eventually ended the stillness. "People are going to stare," she stated plainly. Lena took a little breath. "They already do." The whole community knew what had transpired. Rothswood was small like that.Because the town was small, the tragedy did not remain hidden for long. Their parents perished three weeks ago in what police described as a car accident on a dark wooded road just outside town.
A drunken motorist. This was the official story.Most people believed it. Lena tried to believe it, too. But sometimes, late at night, when the house felt too quiet, she remembered the peculiar detail mentioned by the police officer. There was no additional car found at the location. Lyra abruptly opened the car door. "I'm not doing the pity thing today," she murmured as she walked out. "If anyone gives me that look, I swear I'll punch them." Lena nearly grinned. That was Lyra. Lyra fought back against the world, while Lena retreated inward.
Always had. Lena grabbed her suitcase and walked outside into the cool morning air. The parking lot had a subtle fragrance of rain and wet pavement. Students turned their heads as the twins strolled by. Some whispered. Some looked away fast. Others gave shy, embarrassed smiles.Lena kept her gaze forward. Each step towards the school felt heavier than the last. But she forced herself to continue walking. Because life hasn't stopped. Not even after losing everything.Lyra came to an abrupt stop as they approached the front steps of Rothswood High. "What?" Lena asked. Lyra grimaced slightly as she looked at the tree line beyond the football pitch. For a little while, she appeared disturbed. "Nothing," she said after a pause.
Lena followed her eyes. The woodland encircling Rothswood extended far beyond the school boundaries. Tall black trees wave gently in the breeze. For some reason, Lena felt a shiver down her spine. As if someone—or something—were watching. Then the feeling vanished. Lyra shook her head and walked in. Lena waited a second longer before following.
They didn't know it yet. But their return to school would set things in motion. Something had been sleeping in Rothswood for quite some time. Along a quiet road coming into town... A black automobile drove across the welcome sign, which read: Welcome to Rothswood. Inside the automobile, a young man looked out the windscreen at the town. His expression was tranquil. But his eyes carried the weight of centuries. After all these years... Adrian Vale had finally returned home.