C90 The Truth About Margaret

The pier was shrouded in mist.

Isabella stood at the railing, Sebastian beside her, his hand on her back. The fog rolled in from the ocean, thick and gray, swallowing the world beyond the wooden planks. Somewhere in the distance, a foghorn moaned.

She hated this place. Hated the secrets it held, the ghosts that lingered.

But she was tired of running.

A figure emerged from the mist