Where the Cracks Begin

Previously

…Corbin nodded back, his gaze steady, his mind already racing ahead. The sheriff’s performance was almost convincing, almost. But Corbin had seen the glint in his eyes, the subtle shift in his posture, and now, with the discovery of Liam’s bird, he understood the extent of the charade. The ghost stories were a cover, and the sheriff was complicit. The question was, to what extent? And why? He walked towards the diner, the ceramic bird a small, bright spark of truth in his pocket. The real haunting of Blackwood Creek wasn't in the decaying walls of the asylum, but in the hearts and minds of its living inhabitants. And he was just beginning to understand the depth of their darkness.