Chapter one

Sheriff Gallagher steps out of his cruiser and onto the playground pavement, the sound of children's laughter and playground chatter absent from the air feels even more foreboding. But his focus is on the grim scene before him. Veronica's body hangs limp on a swing, her blonde hair tangled in the chains, her eyes frozen in a permanent stare.

He approaches the swing set, his eyes scanning the area. The other swings hung still, like spectral witnesses to the crime. The sheriff's gaze narrows as he takes in the details. No signs of struggle or disturbance in the surrounding area. It was as if the killer had carefully placed Veronica on the swing, posing her in a grotesque parody of childhood innocence.

Deputy Emily stands nearby, her face pale. "Sheriff, we've got something here."

The sheriff follows her gaze to the dead girl’s hand, where a long piece of cardboard is fixed. He walks over, his eyes fixed on the message scrawled in red ink: "Echoes never die."

His mind races with the implications. This is no random act of violence. This is a calculated, symbolic killing. And the message points to a deeper meaning, a sinister intent that chills him to the bone.

"Get forensics on this," he orders Emily, his voice low and urgent. "We need to know if this is our killer's handwriting. And find out if anyone saw anything unusual last night."

As Emily nods and begins to radio the request, the sheriff's eyes linger on Veronica's lifeless form, his heart heavy with the weight of the case. This is just the beginning, he fears. And he has a feeling that the killer is far from finished.

Billie gazes out the car window as her mom drives down the winding road, the GPS leading them to their new home in La Salle. The houses blur together, each one looking more drab than the last. When they finally pull up to their new address, Billie's heart sinks. The house is a beige box with a patchy lawn and a front door that looks like it hasn't been painted in years.

"Home sweet home," her mom says, forcing a cheerful tone.

Billie and her mom work in silence, their movements efficient and practiced as they pack up the last of their belongings. The apartment, that was probably once filled with laughter and memories, now feels empty and hollow.

Billie's mom, her eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep, carefully unwraps a fragile vase from the newspaper. "You know, sweetie, I'm proud of us. We're starting fresh, just like we always do."

Billie nods, her gaze drifting around the bare rooms. She feels a pang in her chest, knowing she misses Chicago already, despite its painful associations.

As they finish unpacking, Billie's mom turns to her with a determined smile. "You’ll love it here, kiddo. Our new life awaits."

A week later, Billie stands outside Sinclair Prep School, her stomach twisting with nerves. She has never been to a private school before, and the gleaming buildings and manicured lawns intimidated her. As she walks through the halls, she feels like an outsider even in the uniform.

Calm down, Billie. Breath. Take a deep breath and just blend in. You’ve got this.

She steps into her assigned class and the room goes quiet. At the front row is a girl with cornrows standing, she stops talking as soon as Billie enters.

Oh my God. This is freaking awkward.

‘You must be the new student. Billie Tyson, right?’

She nods.

‘Why don't you introduce yourself to the class? Dana? You can have your seat.’

‘But I'm not done yet.’

‘Do as you're told, Miss Cook.’

The girl reluctantly sits down, staring at the window with an agitated glare.

‘Um…’ Billie scratches her nose. ‘My name is Billie Tyson, I'm from Chicago. I love sports and fashion. Nice meeting you guys.’

That's a lie. I can't run to save my life. I just want to blend in and be an ordinary kid.

‘Interesting hobbies, Miss Tyson. I hope everyone treats her like family. You can have the seat next to Jasher.’

She gives the teacher a blank look and he corrects himself.

‘The boy with glasses.’

She stared around. There's only one person with glasses, a scrawny but good-looking boy sitted at the back.

Their eyes lock and he looks away first, taking his attention back to his textbook. Billie heads for him, taking her seat.

That wasn't so bad.

The bell rings and the teacher excuses himself, causing the students to resume whatever it is they were doing.

Billie shoves her book into her backpack, slipping out her phone. A hand swipes it from her grasps.

‘Don’t city girls use the latest iphone?’ a brunette sneers, checking out the phone.

‘That’s mine. Give it back.’

‘ooh!’ another girl butts in. She looks like the exact replica of the first one. Twins. ‘Feisty.’

‘Hey, Dana? Come check out this pathetic new girl.’

Dana’s too busy frowning at the message on her phone that she doesn't hear. They call her again.

‘What?!’

‘Check out this lame chick.’

Dana's eyes land on Billie, then rolls up to meet the twins. She frowns.

‘Don’t you have better things to do?!’ and just like that she steps out.

The twins scoff. ‘Just who does she think she is? Veronica?’

‘Um.. she might be the new Veronica. Check the news guys!’ someone yells.

Everyone rushes for their phones, frowning at a certain news. The twins even rush out after Dana and Billie just stare blankly at everyone.

What the hell is going on?

The town’s sheriff walks into the classroom and everyone stills.

‘Good Day everyone. Jasher? You're wanted in the station for questioning.’

The boy blinks at the sheriff, his brain failing to fathom what was happening at the moment.

‘M-me? Why?’

‘All questions will be answered at the station.’

As the boy hesitantly follow

s the sheriff, Billie can only make out one thing.

Veronica Andersen was found dead.

Who the hell is that?