The sun dipped low over the rolling cornfields of Indiana, casting long shadows across the quiet town of Maple Creek. It was a place where life moved slowly, where the biggest excitement came from Friday night football games and the annual state fair. But for sixteen-year-old Jake Holloway, Maple Creek felt like a prison.
Jake had lived in the same white farmhouse his whole life, the son of a struggling farmer and a mother who worked double shifts at the diner. He knew every crack in the wooden floors, every creak of the old barn doors, and every road that led out of town—but none of them seemed to lead anywhere he wanted to go.
As he sat on the porch, his old dog Rusty curled up at his feet, Jake could hear the distant hum of an approaching motorcycle. His heart quickened. He knew that sound.
Moments later, a black Harley roared up the driveway, dust billowing behind it. The rider, a man in his mid-thirties with a worn leather jacket and a weathered face, swung off the bike and pulled off his helmet.
"Uncle Ray?" Jake stood up, confused. He hadn't seen his uncle in nearly five years—not since the night Ray left town under mysterious circumstances.
"Hey, kid," Ray said with a lopsided grin. "Got a minute?"
Jake nodded, sensing that whatever came next would change everything.