open starter.
location: bookends
Darcy had been in Cassel for a week. She’d hated every second of it.
Cassel, Illinois was so much like the nowhere town in Georgia she’d sprouted from. Both places had the same sleepy population, the same crumbling buildings, the same hazy concept of time. Days were measured only by the appearance of new wrinkles, in faces or on sidewalks. An entire town slowly disintegrating while those who lived in it had long ago accepted their fates.
It made her miserable, but there were few places Darcy lived that had ever made her happy. She put up with it for work, knowing it was temporary. Once her money was made, she would be off to the next place. Some other sad town with sad occupants. In the in between, she found small ways to make the days interesting.
Thus far, Darcy had been exploring the town, getting to know its inhabitants from afar. It was always how she acclimated to a new place, learning its ins, outs, and avenues. A successful con was always a well-informed one. When she discovered the bookstore, she’d finally felt like she found a personal haven. Just like when she was a young girl, Darcy lost herself in novels.
She found a custom shelf the owner or an employee had created of town favorites. She ran her hand along the dusty spines, learning about Cassel through the titles of their favorite books. When she spotted movement out of the corner of her vision, she glanced over without turning her head.
She hadn’t spoken to many people yet. She was always hesitant to feed the animals, so to speak. Now felt like as good a time as any. If she wanted good information about Cassel before she approached the Andrews family, she would have to get it from the people who knew best.
“That book is cursed,” she said, raising her voice in their direction. She pointed to the copy of The Orphan’s Tale that they held in their hands. “Read at your own risk, but I’d pick up something else if I were you.”
"Sounds like my type of book, then," she shrugged, renewed interest in the title she held. To be completely honest, she hadn't been the most excited about it — it was a common thing for her to venture into the book shop and come out empty handed. She wasn't sure why she couldn't find a new piece of literature that satisfied her curiosity: anything she picked up made her feel restless.
To continue the trend of honesty, one could say the restlessness wasn't entirely brought on by the books themselves, but by her current situation. She was being pressured at the station to change the tone of her podcast — while she agreed it was not productive to talk about ongoing investigations, her public constantly asked for her opinion on the happenings of their hometown of Cassel, IL. Or, largely, happening. The one thing.
The problem was that, due to her personal relationship with said one thing, she couldn't bring the most unbiased opinion to the forefront — often lapsing into sardonic quips directed at those responsible for her cousin's case. It was also extremely uncomfortable to be pressured into talking about it when, once again, her family was in shambles. What a tragedy it was, the not knowing. A different mystery would be a welcome distraction. "Tell me more about this curse, love."
