Chapter 5
Maya
Istared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to convince myself that sneaking out to the bonfire was a good idea.
Mom had been crystal clear; I wasn't to go anywhere near Stone Mountain tonight.
But Bolton's text messages had been equally persuasive, and the mystery of why my mother was so afraid of a simple high school tradition had gnawed at me all day.
"Maya?" Mom's voice floated up from downstairs. "Do you want some dinner? I made burgers."
"Not hungry," I called back, wincing at how suspicious that sounded. I was always hungry.
I heard her footsteps on the stairs before I had the chance to hide my towel-wrapped outfit—jeans, boots, and my hoodie already tucked underneath. I shoved the bundle deeper under the sink and straightened just as she appeared in the doorway.
Her face was carefully neutral, what I called her nurse face. Calm, composed, but watchful. She used it for patients in pain who insisted they were fine, and apparently for daughters who were clearly not planning to sneak out.
"You feeling okay?" she asked, studying my face as if it might give her a diagnosis.
"Just tired." I faked a yawn and stretched my arms overhead. "Long week."
She leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, eyes flicking to the window where the full moon glowed through the trees.
"I was thinking we could watch a movie tonight,"she said after a pause. "Like we used to. Just something dumb and comforting. Pajamas, popcorn, the works."
My guilt stung like a paper cut, small but persistent.
"Maybe tomorrow?" I offered gently. "I didn’t sleep much last night. I probably need the rest."
She was quiet for a second too long before saying, “Right. Of course.”
Her posture was relaxed, but I could see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers tightened around her elbow.
"About what I said yesterday..." Her voice was careful now. Too careful.
"About the bonfire?" I tried to keep my tone casual, though my heart picked up speed.
"Yes." She took a step into the room. "I need you to understand that Stone Mountain isn’t like other places. The people here hold tight to traditions. Those traditions aren’t just quaint or old-fashioned.They’re powerful. Sometimes dangerous."
“Dangerous how?” I asked, keeping my voice soft. “You keep saying things like that, but you never explain. It’s just a bonfire, Mom.”
She exhaled slowly. “Nothing in this town is ‘just’ anything.”
I blinked, absorbing the weight of her words. “Okay… what does that mean, though? Are you saying this full moon thing is more than just s’mores and bad acoustic guitar music?”
Her lips twitched in the ghost of a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know it sounds ridiculous. And I know how it looks. But this town… it has a history. Our family has a history here.”
My breath caught. “You mean you and Dad?”
She hesitated. “Before that, too. Before I met your father.”
“But why? He hasn’t done anything—”
“He doesn’t have to,” she snapped, then caught herself, softening on the exhale. “Listen. Bolton Sharpe’s family has been part of this mountain for generations. They know things. They do things. Things I left behind a long time ago.”
I swallowed hard. “But… you came back.”
Her lips twitched, not into a smile, but something closer to defeat. “To protect you. Not to get tangled in their world again. After so many years of running, this was the one place I thought they wouldn't look for us—because they’d never believe I’d be foolish enough to return.”
I stared at her. “Running from who, Mom? The Sharpes? Or something worse?” My voice dropped, but the edge in it remained sharp. “You act like they’re dangerous, but you never say why. What are you not telling me?”
She didn’t answer at first. Just looked down at her hands, as if the truth was buried in the lines of her palms. “So you were part of it?” I asked, quieter now. “Whatever it is the Sharpes are involved in?”
“I was part of something once,” she said slowly and carefully. “And it cost me everything.”
The air between us shifted like the silence itself had leaned in, waiting.
I didn’t want to argue anymore.
I wanted to understand.
“Was Dad part of it?” I whispered.
Her eyes filled, but the tears didn’t fall. Her voice trembled at the edges. “Your father had a heart bigger than this entire town. He believed in things I couldn’t. In people I was taught not to trust.” She looked at me then. “It got him killed.”
I stood there, heart pounding.
Not just because of what she said.
But because, deep down, I already believed it.
AND NOW, I had to find out what else she hadn’t told me.
I stood frozen, the words echoing in my chest like a dropped stone in a deep well. “People you were taught not to trust? Who? What people?”
Her gaze dropped to the floor, but I saw her shoulders stiffen, like she was bracing herself against ghosts. “People whose lives don’t look like ours. Who live by different rules. Who come from old traditions.”
“You mean the Sharpes,” I said, my voice low.
Her silence was confirmation enough.
“You’re not just talking about their wealth or their status, are you?” I stepped forward, my heart thudding. “You think they’re dangerous.”
“I know they are,” she whispered.
“Because of who they are?” I pressed.
She looked up again, and this time her eyes searched mine, as if she was trying to measure whether I was ready for the truth. “Because of what they’ve sworn to protect. Because of the power they answer to. Because once you step into their world, Maya, it doesn’t let you go.”
My fingers curled into fists at my sides. “So Dad did? Step into their world?”
She nodded slowly, the movement barely perceptible. “He loved me enough to try to hold both worlds together. But love doesn’t stop blood from being spilled. It doesn’t protect you from old grudges.”
I swallowed hard, my brain working to stitch together what she wasn’t saying. “Are you saying someone killed him because of you?”
Her mouth pressed into a flat line with regret, letting the words slip. “He died because I tried to stay in a place I wasn’t meant to be. And I won’t let that happen to you.”
“So that’s why we’ve been running,” I said, the realization dawning like a slow sunrise. “Every new town. Every new identity. You weren’t just trying to escape the past. You were trying to keep it from finding me.”
A muscle in her jaw twitched. “Yes.”
“And now we’re back here. With them. With him.” I meant Bolton, even though I didn’t say his name. “And you think history is going to repeat itself.”
“I think fate has a cruel sense of humor,” she said bitterly.
Her voice cracked then, and she turned away, wiping at her cheek as if she could erase the memory itself.
I took a trembling step closer. “Then help me, Mom. Tell me everything. Tell me who they are.”
She inhaled shakily, not looking at me. “If I start, you won’t be able to unhear it. And once you see the truth, you can’t go back to the life you had before.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I think I’ve been living someone else’s life this whole time.”
She turned slowly to look at me again—really look. Her face was pale, her eyes dark with memory and fear. But behind the fear, I saw something else.
Resolve.
And maybe the beginning of the truth.
“I just want you safe,” she whispered.
Then she turned and walked out, the sound of her footsteps fading down the hall.
Whatever happened in this town—whatever happened to my dad—started long before I was born.
And if Mom wasn’t going to tell me the truth, I’d have to find it myself.
Even if it meant lying to her to do it.
I turned back to the mirror, grabbed the towel off the counter, and finished getting dressed.
The full moon was rising.
And I was going to the bonfire.
No matter what secrets waited for me there.
As soon as her footsteps faded, I pulled out my phone.
Is it too late for you to pick me up? I need a ride after all. I texted Bolton.
The response came almost immediately: Be at the end of your street at 9.
I tucked my phone away and pulled out my notebook, flipping to a new page.
March 19th
Mom's hiding something about Stone Mountain—something about our family. This bonfire feels important, like it's the real reason we came back. I've felt different lately. Restless, like something's pushing against my skin from the inside out.
I need answers. And I think they'll be at the bonfire tonight.
I closed the notebook and tucked it carefully under my mattress. The moon was higher now, casting long shadows across my bedroom floor. In less than two hours, I'd be sneaking out to meet Bolton.
What waited for me at Stone Mountain, I couldn't say. But one thing was certain, I wasn't the only one keeping secrets in this town.