It was a golden autumn afternoon. The warm breeze gently rustled the leaves of the trees lining the main street of Willow Creek, a small town where life seemed to slow down on weekends. Inside a retro ice cream parlor — with red booths and a black-and-white checkered floor — the sound of laughter filled the air. It was sweet, light, like ice crystals clinking in a glass.
Ethan Owen’s stood across the street, still. His gaze fixed on the window. It wasn’t the colorful decor that held him. It was her.
Chocolate-brown hair with golden highlights, almost translucent blue eyes. She wore a butterfly-shaped hair clip that caught the sunlight like a piece of colored glass. She was holding a milkshake and laughing with two friends. Cassie Collins — he heard one of them say her name. And in that moment, something dormant inside him… woke up.
The world seemed to stop for a second.
Ethan’s hands trembled slightly as he placed the new photograph inside the box. The image showed Cassie laughing, her loose hair flying in the wind as she skated on the ice at the town square. He had waited over an hour in the cold just to capture that moment.
Next to the photo lay the butterfly hair clip. He had “rescued” it from a bench where she’d accidentally left it behind. In his mind, it was a gift. A sign. Inside the box, everything made sense. It was a sanctuary of purity, of beauty… of Cassie.
She was the only part of the world that didn’t seem poisoned.
Two weeks later, Ethan was there. White hallways, slamming lockers, loud conversations. Roosevelt High School looked ordinary from the outside, but to him it was a battlefield of obsession. Using forged documents, he enrolled in the senior year. His youthful features helped him pass unnoticed. It was perfect.