Prologue

Prologue – Echoes in the Rain. Rain fell over Ashford Hollow, soft at first, then heavier, drumming against the rooftops and cobblestone streets like a persistent whisper that refused to be ignored. The sky hung low and swollen with clouds, pressing down on the town as though it, too, carried something it could no longer hold. Ashford Hollow was small enough that everyone knew the color of their neighbor’s shutters and the sound of their neighbor’s laugh. It was the kind of town where the church bell marked not only the hours but the rhythm of daily life, and where the scent of fresh bread from the bakery on Main Street drifted lazily through open windows each morning. Yet beneath its ordinary charm lay something unsettled — a tension that clung to the air like mist over the hills. Conversations stopped too quickly when certain names were mentioned. On that particular afternoon, umbrellas bloomed along the sidewalks like dark flowers. Children splashed in shallow puddles, their laugh