Chapter 6
Agnes's Anxious Murmurs
Townsfolk like Agnes grow increasingly anxious, their gossip fueling fear. Elara overhears snippets of their worries, realizing the unsettling events are affecting more than just her.
The scent of Mrs. Gable’s prize-winning roses, usually a sweet balm on the Willow Creek air, was tinged with something else these days. Something sharp and sour, like overripe fruit. Elara, walking past the picket fence, caught snippets of conversation from the porch swing. Mrs. Gable’s voice, usually a cheerful chirp, was a tight, worried hum.
“And then, I tell you, Martha, the teacups… they just… rattled. Right there on the shelf. I swear on my grandmother’s grave, they did.”
Agnes, her neighbor, a woman whose worry lines seemed etched deeper with each passing day, wrung her hands. “Rattled? Oh, dear. Mine too, you know. Yesterday, the jam jars in the pantry. Just a little nudge, but enough to make them dance. I thought I was imagining things, but…”
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