Chapter 2: Homecoming

More beautiful fiction

Raindrops clung stubbornly to the Jeep's windshield as it rolled through the cobblestone streets of Peachtree Hollow. Sam’s eyes drank in the familiar sights that seemed impossibly unchanged. They passed familiar storefronts of the past, the town square's white gazebo presiding over an empty silence, and the old church with its bell tower weathered by decades of Sundays. Sam pointed out landmarks while Lilly peered through the rain-blurred glass, her curiosity shining. Sam’s words came quickly, an academic tone slipping into Southern as she got excited about showing her sister around.

“We used to buy peach milkshakes at that diner,” Sam said, nodding toward a chrome-fronted building that glinted dully in the gray light. Her excitement edged into her voice as memories flooded back. “Mom would let me order extra whipped cream, which I usually wore more than I ate.”

"Don't Remember Me for My Resilience" a poem by Miranda

“Is that the same gas station?” Lilly asked, craning her neck to look at the faded sign. “I swear it’s even sketchier now.”

“Yep. It was sketchy when Mom was a kid,” Sam replied with a laugh.

Lilly smirked, her eyes wide with interest. Sam's mind raced ahead, eager to show Lilly everything while also afraid of what she might find.

“You see that gazebo?” Sam continued, her words tumbling out faster than her thoughts. “Every Friday there used to be concerts there. The whole town showed up to watch. This place seemed huge when I was your age.”