Chapter 32: Truth

I watch as my parents’ car comes down our street, out of my view once it goes by the house next to ours. We don’t really talk with them, the people in the next house over, or any of our neighbors. But there are nights where I’m on the roof and their youngest son, maybe five or six, waves at me from their bedroom window. I wave back.

They’ve only lived there for about a year.

And I can see this kid believing in the rumors about Sacred Pines playground, as most kids do. He probably first heard it in school or spread around by other kids his age in the neighborhood. Has he ever gone to the playground? The woods?

I slide my blanket back through the open window before leaving the roof. I don’t get the chance to close it, hearing the front door and my parents calling out to me that they’re home.