Chapter 4
Whispers on the Boardwalk
August and Bree begin asking subtle questions, gathering gossip from regulars. They learn about Captain Finnigan's disappearance and the strange goings-on at other shops.
The salty air, usually August’s favorite perfume, felt heavy and thick today, clinging to her skin like a damp towel. The usual symphony of the boardwalk – the distant clang of the arcade, the cheerful shouts of vendors, the rhythmic crash of waves – seemed muted, as if the very air held its breath. She wiped down the counter with more force than necessary, the smooth, cool Formica a stark contrast to the unsettling unease churning in her stomach. The cryptic note, tucked away in her apron pocket, felt like a tiny, sharp stone. “The sweetest flavors hide the bitterest truths. They see everything from the highest perch. Beware the blue tide.”
Bree, her usual whirlwind of energy, was uncharacteristically subdued, meticulously arranging a pyramid of waffle cones as if her life depended on it. Her brow was furrowed, her bright eyes scanning the sparse morning crowd with a vigilance that mirrored August’s own.
“Anything?” August finally ventured, her voice barely a whisper above the hum of the freezer.
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