Act 1: The Stranger at Dusk
The rain had been pouring down since late afternoon. Pat… Pat… Pat… A quiet and steady patter. By nightfall, the village was draped in the mist. The fog covered the entire street. Faint glow of the gas lamps could hardly be seen in the streets. It was the kind of night that made people bolt their doors early and draw their curtains tight. But not Nora Hale.
She stood behind the counter of The Silver Finch. Wiped a glass with a faded linen cloth. Her gaze flicked every so often to the door. Business had been slow that evening. Two old fisherman sat in a corner. They talked about the tides. The thunder rumbled low outside. Like some distant beast stirring in its sleep.
Then the door creaked open.
For a moment, Nora thought it was just the wind. But the figure that stepped through wasn’t a shadow or a trick of the gaslight. He was tall. Lean beneath a dark, rain-slick coat. His boots thudded hard on the wooden floor. Water dripped from his cuffs. His face was pale, angular, the kind you wouldn’t forget once you’d seen it.
“Evening,” he said, voice smooth but cold as the night air.
Nora forced a polite smile. “Evening. You’re soaked through.”
He glanced at his shoulder, as if just noticing. “Seems I am.”
“You’ll catch a cold,” she said. “Take a seat by the fire. I’ll bring you something hot.”
He gave a small nod. Then slowly proceeded toward the fireplace where an elderly collie was dozing. The dog’s ears rose. It made no sound. Just watched with wary eyes.
Nora poured a cup of strong black tea. Added a dash of honey. And walked it over to him. Up close, she noticed his hands. Long fingers, but calloused. Scratches across the knuckles. She set the cup down carefully.
“Thank you.” He touched the cup. His fingers curled around the porcelain. It felt like he hadn’t touched anything warm in a while.
They sat silently. The fire hissed and crackled. The wind picked up outside. It rattled the window glass.
“You’re not from around here.” Nora said with a light tone.
He smiled faintly. “Is it that obvious?”
“Macphia’s the kind of place where everyone knows everyone. And your coat’s cut wrong for a fisherman.”
“I’m not much for fishing,” he sipped tea. “Name’s Elias.”
“Nora,” she replied. “What brings you to Macphia, Elias?”
He looked at her. Eyes a pale gray that made her stomach twist. “I’m looking for someone.”
The air in the pub seemed to thin. The fishermen at the corner glanced over but said nothing. The room had become quite all of a sudden.
“We don’t get many strangers here. Who is it you’re after?” Her hands crossed across her chest.
Elias set the tea down gently. His expression didn’t change. But his voice dropped lower. “Her name is Maria. She disappeared three days ago.”
Nora’s heart pounded. Maria. She knew that name. Everyone in Macphia did. Maria Benton. Young. Bright. Gone without a trace.
“You’re too late. The search parties gave up yesterday. They say she drowned in the marsh.”
Elias tilted his head. “Do you believe that?”
The question hung in the air like smoke. Nora licked her lips. “People see things in the mist out there. Hear things. It’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous,” Elias echoed, as if tasting the word. “Yes. I’m counting on that.”
Goosebumps rose on her arms.
He stood. Moved to the window. Watched the fog swirl like restless spirits beyond the glass.
“Will you show me where she was last seen?” he asked, not turning around.
Nora hesitated. Every instinct screamed no. But something deeper took over her. Curiosity, maybe. She kept silent for long. Then finally spoke.
“Dawn… We go at dawn.”
Elias turned back to her, and this time he smiled fully. It didn’t reach his eyes.
“Dawn, then.”
To Be Continued…