Chapter 2: Patterns in the Dark

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Sophia's first day at the Millbrook Medical Clinic began with an impossibility. She arrived at seven-thirty to find the waiting room packed despite not opening until nine.

"Dr. Reeves?" The receptionist—a woman in her fifties with kind eyes and graying hair—looked up with visible relief. "I'm Linda Morrison. Thank heavens you're early. People started arriving at six."

"Six?" Sophia surveyed the eclectic mix filling every seat. An elderly man cradled a bandaged hand, a young mother bounced a feverish toddler, and several others appeared perfectly healthy but seemed determined to wait. "Emergency I should know about?"

"Not exactly." Linda's expression remained carefully neutral. "Word spread that we finally have a permanent doctor. People have been... saving up their medical concerns."

The morning blurred past in routine examinations and minor injuries. But as hours progressed, Sophia noticed disturbing patterns. Several patients presented injuries inconsistent with their explanations—scratches resembling claw marks rather than bramble cuts, unusually rapid healing, and a wariness extending beyond normal medical anxiety.

By the third patient claiming "hiking injuries," Sophia began asking pointed questions.

"Mr. Garrett," she said, examining neat parallel lines running from his shoulder to elbow, "you mentioned getting caught in thorns?"

The middle-aged man shifted uncomfortably. "That's right, Doc. Hiking near the old quarry. Brush grows thick up there."

Sophia cleaned the wounds, noting they were healing remarkably well for supposedly two-day-old injuries. "You must have excellent healing genes."

"Always have. Family trait."

The scratches were too uniform, too precise for thorns. They resembled claw marks—large ones.

"Are there dangerous animals in the area I should know about? Bears or mountain lions?"

His reaction was immediate. His entire body tensed, pupils dilating noticeably.

"No, Doc. Nothing like that here. Just deer and rabbits mostly."

He was lying—she was certain. But before she could press further, he was off the table and heading for the door.

The pattern continued relentlessly. Patients with stories that didn't match their injuries, unusually rapid healing rates, and universal reluctance to discuss anything involving the surrounding forest.

By lunch, thoroughly puzzled and increasingly concerned, Sophia was reviewing charts when Linda knocked.

"Dr. Reeves? Someone's here to see you. Says it's not medical but important."

Margaret Thorne stood in the doorway, expression far more serious than the previous day.

"We need to talk," Margaret said, closing the door after Linda retreated. "About your morning patients."

"I can't discuss confidential patient information—"

"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to listen. And be very careful."

"Careful about what?"

Margaret chose her words deliberately. "Millbrook is special, Dr. Reeves. We handle things our own way here. People trust each other, look out for one another. But that trust must be earned."

"I don't understand."

"Those injuries you treated today—they weren't from hiking accidents."

Sophia's pulse quickened. "Then what caused them?"

"That's not my place to say. But I will tell you this—Millbrook's people have managed their own affairs for generations. They don't need outsiders asking uncomfortable questions or attracting unwanted attention."

The warning in Margaret's voice made Sophia's skin crawl. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'm trying to protect you. This town holds secrets you don't understand yet. Things that could prove dangerous if you're not careful."

Before Margaret could elaborate, commotion erupted in the waiting room—raised voices and furniture scraping. Both women rushed out to find Linda attempting to calm a man pacing like a caged predator.

He appeared young, mid-twenties, with dark hair and the lean build of someone spending considerable time outdoors. But his eyes captured Sophia's attention—wild, almost feral, sending chills down her spine when he looked at her.

"Where is she?" he demanded, voice rough with barely controlled emotion. "Where's the new doctor?"

"I'm Dr. Reeves." Sophia stepped forward despite Margaret's sharp intake of breath. "How can I help you?"

The man's nostrils flared, and she could have sworn he was scenting the air. "You're new here."

"Yes. Are you injured? Do you need medical attention?"

"I need you to understand that some things are better left alone."

"I'm sorry?"

"The questions you've been asking. The notes you've been taking. Some things don't need documentation."

Anger flashed through Sophia. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'm a doctor," she continued, crossing her arms. "I took an oath to help people. I won't be intimidated into ignoring injuries or providing substandard care."

He stepped closer, bringing a scent reminiscent of the woods behind her house—earthy and wild with an undertone she couldn't identify.

"Some injuries heal better without interference," he said quietly. "Some secrets exist for good reasons."

"And some secrets kill people." Sophia held her ground. "If something dangerous lurks in these woods, people deserve to know."

His expression shifted, revealing something resembling respect.

"You're braver than most," he acknowledged. "But bravery can be lethal in places like this."

Before she could respond, he was gone, moving through the clinic's entrance with fluid grace that seemed almost inhuman.

"Who was that?" Sophia asked, turning to Margaret.

"Trouble," Margaret replied grimly. "Jake Morrison. Linda's nephew."

"He seemed... agitated."

"Jake has problems. The entire Morrison family does. They're dealing with difficult circumstances."

"What kind of circumstances?"

Margaret's expression shuttered completely. "The kind that are none of your business, Dr. Reeves."

The afternoon passed quietly with routine appointments, but tension lingered. After Linda left, Sophia stayed late reviewing the day's cases. The more she analyzed the injuries, the more convinced she became that something was fundamentally wrong in Millbrook.

The scratches were too uniform, too precise. Healing rates defied medical explanation. Patient reactions seemed coordinated, defensive.

The entire town appeared to be hiding something significant.

Locking up the clinic, Sophia found herself scanning shadows between buildings. Millbrook's streets looked different in darkness—older, more mysterious, filled with secrets whispering just beyond comprehension.

Halfway home, she realized she was being followed.

Headlights appeared in her rearview mirror. When she slowed, the vehicle slowed. When she accelerated, it matched her pace precisely.

Her heart raced as she pulled into her driveway. The other vehicle stopped at her street's end, headlights aimed directly at her house like searchlights.

She grabbed her belongings and hurried toward her front door. As she reached the porch, the headlights suddenly extinguished, and she heard an engine starting and driving away.

Standing on her porch, listening to forest night sounds, Sophia tried calming her racing pulse. Combined with the day's events, it felt like another warning.

Stepping into her house's safety, Sophia made a firm decision. She would discover what was really happening in Millbrook, regardless of how many people tried warning her away.

She was a doctor, trained to recognize patterns and solve puzzles. This town was definitely a puzzle requiring solution.

Kai's jasmine plant sat on her kitchen counter, white flowers glowing in streaming moonlight. She touched a delicate petal, catching that same wild scent—something evoking secrets and the spaces between trees where shadows moved independently.

Outside, something howled in the distance. This time, Sophia was absolutely certain it wasn't a dog.