Sylvie watched Nathan storm out, his words still echoing in her mind. Before she could fully process them, Parker walked up, his expression somewhere between apologetic and weary.

Parker's expression was gentle as he spoke.

"Sorry you got caught in the middle of that. You alright?"

Sylvie blinked, dragging her gaze back to him.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Just... why was he so mad?"

Parker sighed, glancing toward the door Nathan had slammed moments ago.

"Nathan’s a good man. He’s just had a rough couple of years. Can’t say I’m a fan of the weekly tirades, but... I’m not sure I’d be any better if I were in his shoes."

Sylvie frowned, her eyes drifting to the door again as she chewed on her lower lip. Nathan’s words rattled around in her mind like loose screws. Something about them felt heavier than mere grief.

She hesitated. "Hey, Parker," she said uncertainly.

"Has all this really happened before? The drownings, I mean."

Parker’s face darkened, and his eyes flicked toward the crowded station. He scanned the room as if making sure no one was eavesdropping. Finally, he gestured toward the door.

"You’re done with your interview, right? Come on. I’ll walk you out."

Sylvie nodded, following him out of the station. The crisp air outside did little to calm the unease twisting in her stomach. Parker leaned against the brick wall, arms crossed, and studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

It felt like he was weighing something—deciding whether she could handle whatever he was about to say. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Alright," he said quietly.

"This isn’t exactly my story to tell, but... all things considered, it’s something you ought to know."

Sylvie’s brows knitted together as she leaned closer, sensing the gravity of his words.

Parker began cautiously, "Two years ago, Nathan’s wife, Layla, vanished in the middle of the night. No note, no belongings missing—she was just... gone."

Sylvie’s breath caught.

"That’s awful. Did they ever figure out where she went?"

Parker’s gaze dropped to the ground, his jaw tightening.

"They did," he said after a pause. "Three days later... they found her body washed up on the shore. She’d drowned in the lake."

A shiver ran down Sylvie’s spine, her mind racing.

"That’s terrible," she murmured.

"So... there have been more drownings since then?"

Parker hesitated, his eyes lifting to meet hers. The grim look on his face was all the confirmation she needed.

Parker then exhaled deeply, his breath fogging slightly in the cool air as he leaned against the station wall. His gaze shifted toward the distant lake, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face.

“Well,” he began, his tone carefully measured, “that tends to happen when you live near a lake. It’s tragic, sure, but there’s nothing particularly odd about it.”

He paused, his brows knitting together.

“Except… as you’ve probably guessed, Nathan’s not exactly thrilled with how Sunshine grove handled his wife’s case.”

Sylvie tilted her head, intrigued. Parker gestured vaguely down the street.

“He lives in that beat-up house just over there. Any time he’s feeling shouty—which is often—he tends to wander over here and unload on a certain rookie cop who just so happens to have a desk by the door.”

A faint smile tugged at Sylvie’s lips, though it faded quickly as Parker’s expression darkened. He hesitated for a moment before continuing, his voice lowering.

“Anyway… a few weeks ago, Nathan mentioned something odd. On the night Layla disappeared, their back door was forced open… from the inside.”

Sylvie blinked, her head snapping toward him.

“Wait… so Layla broke out of her own house? Why not just unlock the deadbolt or whatever?”

Parker held up his hands, his palms open and empty, a gesture of helplessness.

“Beats me. It’s definitely off. But the Chief said there was no evidence of foul play, so…” His voice trailed off, the unfinished sentence hanging heavily between them.

Sylvie’s jaw tightened, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“Let me guess,” she said, her tone edged with sarcasm.

“They declared it a ‘tragic accident.’”

Parker grimaced, neither confirming nor denying, but his silence spoke volumes.

Sylvie’s thoughts churned, the puzzle pieces refusing to fit together neatly. Something about the story felt… wrong. The kind of wrong that itched at the back of her mind and refused to be ignored.

“Something tells me,” she muttered, more to herself than to Parker, “there’s more to this story.”

Parker watched her carefully, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he nodded slowly, almost reluctantly.

“You’re right. None of this sits well with me either. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re missing something. But…” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

“I’m also not quite ready to believe Nathan’s theory about the lake being cursed.”

The word hit Sylvie like a blow to the chest, stealing her breath for a moment. Cursed. Her mind raced back to the creature she’d seen, its monstrous silhouette burned into her memory. A shiver ran down her spine, and her stomach twisted with unease. Does Nathan know about it? Could that… thing have something to do with Layla’s death?

Her pulse quickened as the urgency to dig deeper took hold of her. She reached for her phone, her fingers fumbling slightly, and her stomach dropped when she saw the screen. Several missed calls from Adrian.

“Damn it,” she muttered, tucking the phone back into her pocket.

“I’d better get home. How do I get to Broad street from here?”

Parker studied her for a moment, concern flickering in his eyes. “Just follow Lakeview Road around the east side of the lake,” he said.

“It’s a bit of a walk, though. If you’d rather not be alone right now, I’d be happy to drive you home.”

Sylvie smiled playfully, tilting her head as she shot Parker a teasing wink.

“Would you now?”

Parker straightened slightly, his posture instinctively formal as if her tone had caught him off guard.

“Yes, I will,” he said firmly.

Sylvie arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She watched as Parker held her gaze for a moment, then blinked rapidly as his expression shifted. His eyes widened, and a faint flush crept up his neck.

“I mean—your home! I will take you to your home, and then I’ll leave. That’s all I meant,” he stammered, words tumbling over each other in a rush.

“I’m offering you a ride. In my car. That’s it. I think—yeah, I’m just gonna shut up now.”

Sylvie bit back a laugh, her smirk widening.

“Sure. I’d love a ride.”

Parker visibly relaxed, nodding quickly.

“Great! I mean… uh, good. Right this way.”

He gestured toward the parking lot behind the station and led her to a green four-door Jeep, its exterior slightly dusty but otherwise well-kept. As they approached, Parker moved ahead to open the passenger door for her, his hand lingering on the handle.

Sylvie paused, her eyes narrowing slightly in mock scrutiny as she eyed the Jeep.

Parker tilted his head, noticing her hesitation. “Something wrong?”

Sylvie shook her head, her lips twitching in amusement.

“No, it’s just… I was kind of expecting a cop car.”

Parker chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“I figured we’d just take mine. I’m off the clock in about twenty minutes anyway.”

Sylvie glanced at him, her expression playful.

“In that case… what are you doing after work?”

Parker froze for a split second before recovering with a crooked smile.

“Depends. Who’s asking?”

“Hypothetically,” Sylvie said, her voice light, “a curious citizen… who might be interested in getting a cup of coffee later.”

Parker chuckled softly, his smile lingering.

“Hypothetically, that sounds nice. But, unfortunately, I’ve got a mountain of paperwork to deal with tonight. Raincheck?”

Sylvie nodded, her smile soft but genuine. “I’ll hold you to that.”

With that, Parker gestured for her to climb in, shutting the door behind her before rounding the Jeep and sliding into the driver’s seat. The engine rumbled to life, and Parker smoothly pulled out of the parking lot, merging onto Lakeview Boulevard.

For a moment, they drove in companionable silence, the hum of the Jeep filling the space between them. The evening light cast long shadows over the quiet road, the lake shimmering faintly in the distance.

Parker glanced at Sylvie, his tone softer now.

“So… how are you holding up?”

Sylvie exhaled slowly, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery.

“Okay, I guess. All things considered.”

Parker nodded, his expression unreadable. “What happened on the boat, with Jason… that’s rough. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Sylvie’s throat tightened, and for a moment, the memory of that day threatened to resurface—the cold water, the terror in Jason’s eyes, the helplessness that had wrapped around her like a vise. She shook her head slightly, pushing the thoughts aside.

“Me too,” she murmured, her voice quieter.

“I guess you probably see stuff like that all the time, huh?”

Parker’s hands tightened briefly on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening before he loosened his grip.

“More than I’d like to,” he admitted, his tone tinged with weariness.

“But it doesn’t get easier. You’d think it would, but… it doesn’t.”

Sylvie glanced at him, noticing the shadow that crossed his features, the weight he seemed to carry beneath his calm demeanor.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to get easier,” she said softly.

Parker’s lips twitched into a faint, almost bittersweet smile.

“Maybe not. But it helps to have people who get it. People you can lean on when it gets to be too much.”

Parker’s voice was calm as he spoke, though a hint of weariness crept in.

“Less than you might think. Sunshine Grove is a pretty peaceful place.”

Sylvie tilted her head, her sharp gaze lingering on him.

“Other than what happened with Nathan’s wife, you mean.”

Parker hesitated, his jaw tightening briefly. “Well, yes, but that was—”

“An accident?” Sylvie interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

Before Parker could answer, the Jeep lurched slightly as he braked behind a slow-moving truck. His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, and he turned toward her, his expression darkening.

“Do you think they’re all connected?”

Sylvie met his troubled gaze without hesitation.

“Hmm… you think they’re not?”

Parker exhaled, running a hand over his jaw.

“They’re both strange, that’s for sure. But I don’t know if I see the connection. A woman wanders off with no explanation in the middle of the night. Then, two years later, a kid gets drunk and falls off a boat.”

“That’s not how it happened,” Sylvie said firmly, her tone sharper now.

Parker glanced at her, his brow furrowing.

“So how did it happen? What did you see down there, Sylvie?”

Sylvie hesitated for a moment, the words caught in her throat. But then the memory surged forward, vivid and raw.

“Parker, I saw a monster,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute.

“It looked like a living skeleton with burning neon eyes and claws. You think I’m making it up, don’t you?”

Parker gripped the wheel, his expression caught between concern and disbelief.

“I… I think you were in a terrible situation, and maybe you were—”

“Seeing things,” Sylvie cut in, her tone laced with frustration.

“Yeah, that’s the same thing your boss said.”

Parker frowned, turning his gaze back to the road as traffic began to crawl forward again. The weight of her words hung in the air between them.

“Try not to be too hard on Chief Ethan Marshall,” he said after a moment.

“Sunshine Grove isn’t like the big city. We don’t really get serious crimes here.”

“Or maybe everyone just goes out of their way to ignore them,” Sylvie shot back, her voice edged with bitterness.

Parker sighed, the lines around his eyes deepening.

“Look, the Chief’s got a good heart. He’s been like a father to me.”

Sylvie’s expression softened slightly. “He is?”

“Pretty much,” Parker said, his voice quieter now.

“My parents were… not good to me when I was a kid. I didn’t know what to do with all that hurt, so I took it out on other people. I could’ve ended up in juvie, or worse, if Chief hadn’t stepped in.”

Sylvie’s heart tightened. “I’m so sorry you went through that.”

Parker shrugged, though there was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

“It’s in the past now. As soon as I turned eighteen, I cut off contact with my parents for good. Chief showed me that I could have a better life—that I deserved a better life. He’s the reason I became a cop. I wanted to help people the way he helped me. I still do.”

The Jeep turned off Lakeview Boulevard and onto a quieter side street. The silence between them was no longer tense but contemplative, the hum of the engine filling the space.

“Listen,” Parker said finally, his voice thoughtful.

“I don’t know about… ghosts and monsters or whatever. But I’ve seen my share of strange things around here.”

Sylvie turned to him, her curiosity piqued. “Strange how?”

Parker’s lips twitched into a faint, self-deprecating smile.

“About a year ago, I was camping on the beach. By myself, of course, because that’s always a smart idea.” He rolled his eyes at his own decision.

“I heard this noise outside my tent in the middle of the night. Something… splashing. I figured it was just an animal, so I tried to ignore it, but it kept getting louder… closer. And then I heard footsteps.”

Sylvie stared at him, wide-eyed. “Footsteps?” she echoed.

Parker nodded, his gaze distant as he recalled the moment.

“They went all the way around the tent, slow and deliberate, like whatever it was was trying to find a way in. When it started scratching at the flap…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“I thought I was gonna have a heart attack. I yelled something in my best Officer Tough Guy voice. I don’t even remember what I said. And then—just like that—it was gone. Whatever it was just… disappeared.”

Sylvie watched him, her shock mingled with a strange sense of understanding.

“And you never saw what it was?”

Parker shook his head.

“Not a thing. But I’ll tell you this—whatever was out there wasn’t just some raccoon or coyote. It felt… wrong.”

Sylvie’s curiosity piqued, she leaned in slightly, her voice soft but insistent.

“So what did you do after that?”

Parker let out a breath, his eyes momentarily drifting back to the road as the memory played out in his mind.

“I ran to my car and spent the rest of the night inside with the doors locked.”

Sylvie couldn’t suppress a smile, the edge of her humor sharp and teasing.

“Bravely cowering, so... what happened after that?”

Parker’s lips curled into a reluctant grin.

“When the sun came up, I canvassed the scene for evidence, but all I found were tracks leading into the water. Needless to say, I packed everything up and got out of there.”

The vehicle turned onto a familiar, quieter road—one leading to her Grandpa’s house. Sylvie’s thoughts remained focused, the unease growing deeper.

“This has to be related,” she said, her voice steady but firm.

“There’s something out there, in the lake.”

Parker’s expression tightened, the flicker of doubt crossing his face.

“I don’t know.”

Sylvie shot him a glance, sharp and insistent.

“Do you have a better explanation?”

He sighed, not looking at her, eyes fixed ahead.

“No, I don’t. But that doesn’t mean the answer is the boogeyman. I’m a cop. I need more to go on than ghost stories and hunches.”

Sylvie stared out the window, her gaze distant, but her voice unwavering.

“Even when they’re your own?”

Parker’s jaw tightened, a hint of something unspoken lingering in his silence.

“Especially then…” His voice trailed off, then shifted as a new thought occurred to him.

“I guess that means someone should go talk to Nathan again.”

Sylvie nodded, a spark of determination lighting her eyes.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

Parker glanced at her, his expression suddenly serious, almost concerned.

“Whoa! That doesn’t mean you.”

Sylvie smirked, the fire in her eyes undimmed.

“I can’t just sit around while people are dying, Parker. I need to do something.”

Before Parker could respond, the Jeep rolled to a stop outside her Grandpa’s house, the engine humming quietly as he turned it off. The peaceful surroundings of the small street contrasted with the storm brewing in their conversation.

Parker paused, taking a breath before speaking again, his voice more careful now.

“Look, I can’t exactly stop you if you’re not doing anything illegal. But if you’re planning to visit Nathan… just be careful, okay?”

Sylvie’s smirk widened, her voice dripping with playful defiance.

“Worried about me?”

Parker’s expression softened, a reluctant concern flashing in his eyes.

“I’m a cop. It’s my job to worry.”

Sylvie raised an eyebrow, a teasing edge in her tone.

“Aw. Is that the only reason?”

Parker opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, the radio squawked to life, breaking the tension with an abruptness that made both of them jump. "Code twelve on Hobbes and Maple. Nearest unit, please respond. Over."

Parker exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Not again…” He reached for the radio, his voice steady despite the sudden shift in focus.

“Hey Leo, this is Parker. I can take that code twelve. Over.”

Sylvie gave him a sidelong glance, her playful demeanor fading slightly as she registered the urgency in his tone.

“Well, it is code twelve.”

Parker smiled, but there was little humor behind it.

“You have no idea what that means, do you?”

Sylvie’s lips parted as she looked at him, a mixture of frustration and curiosity in her gaze.

“Not a clue.”

The Festival Invitation

Sylvie’s lips curved into a mischievous smile as she leaned back in her seat, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Maybe a bank robbery?" she suggested with a hint of sarcasm.

Parker shot her a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth twitching as if to suppress a grin.

"Broken light traffic."

Sylvie raised an eyebrow, the playful tone in her voice never wavering.

"Sounds exciting."

She unbuckled her seatbelt and swung the car door open, stepping out into the cool morning air with a fluid, graceful motion. The house loomed quietly in front of them as she shut the door behind her. Parker, lingering in the driver’s seat, rolled down his window to speak.

"You look good, by the way," he said, his voice a little more sincere than he intended.

"Been meaning to tell you."

Sylvie let out a soft laugh, brushing a damp lock of hair from her face.

"I look like a drowned rat."

Parker chuckled, but his gaze lingered on her for just a moment longer than necessary.

"Listen, if you need to get in touch with me…"

Sylvie’s lips parted in mock surprise.

"Call 9-1-1?"

Parker couldn’t help but laugh at the playful jab.

"Uh… no? That’s the exact opposite of what you should do." He pulled a piece of paper from his glove compartment, scribbling something down quickly before handing it to her.

"I was gonna give you my number."

Sylvie glanced at the paper, the numbers scrawled hastily but legible enough. She gave him a half-smile, tucking it safely into her pocket.

"That’s better. Thanks again for the ride."

They exchanged a brief, silent moment as their eyes met—understanding without words. The air was thick with something unspoken before Parker revved the engine, the sound of the car roaring to life as he winked at her and peeled out of the driveway in an exaggerated, dramatic flourish.

Sylvie watched the car speed off, the tires kicking up dust behind it. Her thoughts lingered on the conversation, a mix of gratitude and something deeper knotting in her chest. But before she could dwell too long, the front door of the house swung open, and a young boy appeared on the doorstep. He stood a little taller than expected, with an easy, friendly smile plastered on his face.

"Hi! I’m Robbie you must be Sylvie it's nice to meet you," the boy said enthusiastically, stepping forward.

"I just came by to let you guys know about the Lake Day Festival coming up next week."

He pulled a colorful pamphlet from his bag and handed it to Sylvie, his eyes sparkling with an excitement that was impossible to ignore.

Sylvie, still processing the earlier conversation with Parker, took the pamphlet with a polite smile.

"Thanks," she said, her voice warm yet distant, distracted by the events of the morning. Robbie beamed at her, clearly pleased with his task accomplished.

"See you later, Adrian!" he called over his shoulder as he hopped onto his bicycle. His wheels hummed on the pavement as he sped off down the road, his figure quickly shrinking into the distance.

Adrian, still standing at the door, watched the boy with a small shake of his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. His gaze shifted to Sylvie as she turned back toward him.

"Must have been a wild party," he teased lightly.

"You crash on that fancy girl’s boat or what? Cause Grandpa figured you never came home last night, and he’s…"

Before he could finish, a sharp, angry voice erupted from inside the house, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"You kids get your asses in here!" the voice bellowed, carrying through the open door. It was unmistakable—adrenaline laced with frustration, a tone that demanded attention.