Chapter 2 The Investigator (Evelyn's POV)

The blood was still wet on the girl's forehead when the federal agent arrived.

I stood frozen at the edge of the crime scene, my father's funeral forgotten as Jonas barked orders at his deputies. Yellow tape fluttered in the morning breeze, sectioning off the oak tree like it could somehow contain the horror. The girl; I couldn't stop thinking of her as just "the girl" because no one had said her name yet swayed gently in the wind, her lifeless eyes staring at nothing.

"This is your fault," Mrs. Henderson's voice cut through the chaos. She pointed a gnarled finger at me, her face twisted with rage. "Twenty years of peace, and you come back and this happens!"

"She brought the curse back with her," Tom Miller agreed, his newspaper forgotten in his trembling hands. "Just like her mother did."

More voices joined in, a chorus of blame and fear that made my skin crawl. These people who'd once bounced me on their knees, who'd given me candy at Halloween, now looked at me like I was something diseased.

"That's enough." Jonas's voice boomed across the cemetery, but even he couldn't quite meet my eyes.

A black SUV pulled up to the cemetery gates. The door opened, and a man stepped out. Tall, maybe mid-thirties, with dark hair and a face that looked like it had forgotten how to smile. He wore a charcoal suit despite the heat, and his gray eyes swept the scene with clinical detachment.

He flashed a badge at Jonas. "Agent Daniel Ward, FBI. I'm here about your ritualistic murders."

Jonas frowned. "What murders? This is the first..."

"No, Sheriff, it's not." Daniel's voice was calm, but there was steel underneath. "Three bodies in the past month, all within a fifty-mile radius. All carved with the same symbol." His gaze found mine across the crowd. "The Cross family sigil."

Three bodies. Three people dead, marked with my family's crest, and I'd been oblivious in my Boston apartment, going to work, living my life, while people were dying.

Daniel approached the body, pulling on latex gloves. His movements were precise, but I caught something else in his expression—recognition. He'd seen this before.

"Sarah Kellerman," he said, reading from a small notebook. "Twenty-three years old, worked at the diner on Route 9. Went missing three days ago."

Sarah. The girl had a name. Had a life. Had dreams that were now carved away with her flesh.

"You seem to know a lot about our town, Agent Ward," Jonas said, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"I know enough." Daniel's eyes found mine again, and this time he didn't look away. "I know that Evelyn Cross returned to Hollow's End yesterday. I know that twenty years ago, her mother Margaret Cross was found hanging from this exact same tree. And I know that victims have a tendency to die when she's near."

The words hit like bullets. Around us, the crowd murmured agreement, their fear finding a target.

"Are you accusing me of murder?" I found my voice at last, stepping closer to the federal agent. Up close, I could see a thin scar running from his left temple to his jaw, and his gray eyes held depths that spoke of their own ghosts.

"I'm stating facts," he said. "Coincidences make me suspicious."

Heat flared in my chest. "Then you should be suspicious of this whole damn town. They've been dying here for generations."

He pulled out a tablet, swiping through files. "According to my research, Hollow's End had exactly zero ritualistic murders between 2004 and last month. Care to guess what happened in 2004?"

My throat closed. "That's when I left."

"Interesting timing."

The crowd pressed closer, emboldened by the federal agent's suspicions. I could feel their hatred like a living thing, crawling over my skin.

"You don't know what you're talking about," I said, but my voice shook.

Daniel stepped closer. "Then educate me. Tell me why people die when you're around. Tell me why your mother hanged herself from this tree. Tell me why your family's sigil keeps showing up carved into corpses."

"I don't know!" The words tore from my throat. "I don't know why any of this is happening. I came back for my father's funeral, nothing more."

"Your father." Daniel consulted his notes again. "William Cross. Found dead in his study three days ago. Natural causes, they said. Heart attack."

"Yes."

"Same day Sarah Kellerman went missing."

The implication hung in the air like smoke. I stared at him, at this man who'd appeared out of nowhere with his federal badge and his accusations, and felt something dangerous spark between us. He was wrong about me, but he wasn't wrong about the timing. The connections were too neat, too deliberate.

"You think I killed my own father?"

"I think," Daniel said quietly, "that death follows you like a shadow. And I intend to find out why."

Jonas stepped between us, his hand resting on his service weapon. "That's enough. Evelyn's been through hell today. She doesn't need you harassing her with wild theories."

Daniel's gaze shifted to Jonas, and I caught something calculating in his expression. "Old flames die hard?"

Jonas's face flushed red. "Watch yourself, Agent Ward."

"Just making observations." Daniel's attention returned to me, and the intensity of his stare made my pulse quicken. "Ms. Cross, I'll need you to come to the station for questioning."

"She's not going anywhere with you," Jonas said.

"Actually, she is. Unless you'd prefer I arrest her as a person of interest."