The road to Moon Valley Hill’s town felt longer than I remembered. The winding paths, situated along the rolling hills, were familiar, yet distant—like fragments of a memory just out of reach. Jason drove in silence, his fingers occasionally tapping the steering wheel. He didn’t say much, which was unusual. I stared out the window, watching as the landscape shifted into small, hilly streets lined with old shop houses and modest homes.
The town had changed.
Some of the old shop houses are now renovated, fresh paint gleaming where decay once was. New buildings stood where empty lots used to be, and the alley that had once felt desolate was now buzzing with life.
Still, beneath it all, the place stirred something uneasy in me—a strange mix of nostalgia and dread.
Naomi’s house loomed ahea
