What the Town Won't Say

Mrs. Hale poured the tea before Elena had finished asking, which was its own kind of answer.

“Your grandfather kept that station the way some men keep a grave,” she said. “Swept it. Sat with it. Every night he walked up the hill, and every night he came back down alone.” She set the pot down a little too hard. “Mostly.”

When Elena asked about her mother, the innkeeper looked at the clock above the bar, and Elena realised it was the only one in Merrow still ticking.