The fog hadn’t lifted by morning, curling through Crescent Bay like it was guarding the town’s secrets. Lila stood on her cottage’s sagging porch, coffee mug in hand, staring at the cliffs that loomed in the distance. They were sharper today, their jagged edges cutting through the mist like a warning. Cade’s words from last night echoed—some things out there don’t come back—and her fingers twitched for her sketchbook, for the symbol she’d seen on his pendant. A crescent moon, split by a jagged line. It had haunted her dreams, and now it felt like a thread she couldn’t stop pulling.

Inside, the cottage felt claustrophobic, the air thick with damp wood and a faint metallic tang, like old blood. Lila shook off the chill, blaming the town’s eerie pull. She’d come here to paint, to escape the gallery scandal that had shattered her world—her reputation, her art, her trust. But Crescent Bay wasn’t the quiet haven she’d imagined. It was alive, whispering, watching. And Cade was at its heart.

She grabbed her sketchbook and headed into town, the symbol’s shape guiding her pencil as she walked. The streets were hushed, save for the rumble of a fisherman’s truck, its driver’s face weathered and closed off. At the general store, Lila froze, her eyes catching on a faded poster taped to a bulletin board. Amelia Kane, 19, last seen near the cliffs, 2005. The girl’s wide eyes and hesitant smile sent a shiver through Lila. But it was the symbol in the poster’s corner—scratched in ink, a crescent moon split by a jagged line—that stopped her cold. The same symbol as Cade’s pendant.

“Curious one, aren’t you?” a voice rasped behind her.

Lila spun, nearly dropping her sketchbook. An old woman stood there, her face creased like driftwood, her eyes sharp despite their cloudiness. She wore a shawl that smelled of lavender and smoke, her gnarled fingers clutching a basket of herbs.

“Just... looking,” Lila said, tucking her sketchbook under her arm. “You know anything about this?” She pointed to the poster, her finger lingering on the symbol.

The woman’s eyes narrowed, flicking to the cliffs. “You’re the artist. The one in the Warren cottage.”

Lila nodded, unease crawling up her spine. “I’m Lila. And you are?”

“Edith,” the woman said, her voice low, like she was sharing a forbidden truth. “That symbol’s trouble. Been trouble since before you were born. Leave it alone, girl.”

Lila’s pulse quickened. “It’s just a drawing.”

Edith’s laugh was dry, like dead leaves. “Nothing’s just anything in Crescent Bay. Ask your bartender. He knows.”

Before Lila could press, Edith shuffled off, vanishing into the fog, leaving Lila stunned. Lila stared at the poster, memorizing Amelia’s face. She looked like someone who’d trusted the wrong person. Like Lila had once. Her fingers brushed the symbol in her sketchbook, her mind racing. The pendant. The poster. Cade’s warning. They were connected, and she needed to know how.

By evening, she was back at The Siren’s Call, the bar’s red neon a beacon in the gloom. The crowd was thinner, the jukebox silent, leaving only the ocean’s distant roar and the clink of glasses. Cade was behind the counter, his movements sharper, like he was coiled for a fight. His stubble darkened his jaw, and his eyes found her the moment she walked in, heavy with something unspoken.

“Back again?” he said, his voice low, but the usual tease was edged with tension. He was watching her too closely, like he knew she’d been digging.

“Maybe I like the view,” Lila said, sliding onto a barstool. Her sketchbook hit the counter, the page with the symbol deliberately open. She wanted to see what he’d do.

Cade’s gaze snapped to the sketch, his hand freezing mid-pour. “You’re still on that?” His voice was tight, his eyes flicking to his necklace, tucked under his shirt. He knew she’d seen the pendant last night—knew she was connecting dots he didn’t want connected.

“Found it somewhere else today,” she said, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “On a poster. Amelia Kane. Missing, 2005. Same symbol as your necklace. Care to explain?”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, she thought he’d shut her down. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver through her. “You’re digging in places you shouldn’t, Lila. Let it go.”

“Then tell me why.” She leaned in too, their faces inches apart, the air crackling between them. “What’s the symbol, Cade? What happened to Amelia?”

His eyes burned with something raw—guilt, maybe, or pain. His necklace slipped free, the pendant catching the neon’s glow, its jagged line mirroring her sketch. “You don’t get it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Some secrets keep you alive. Others... they bury you.”

Her heart pounded, but she didn’t flinch. “I’m not afraid of getting buried.”

He grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but not painful, his thumb brushing her pulse point. The touch was electric, waking every nerve in her body. “You should be,” he murmured, his voice thick with warning and something deeper, something that made her breath catch. “You’re too close to the edge, painter girl.”

“Then pull me back,” she whispered, her eyes locked on his, challenging him to push her away or pull her closer.

The moment hung, heavy and dangerous, until a glass clinked loudly at the bar’s far end. Cade let go, stepping back, his expression shuttering. “Go home, Lila,” he said, but it sounded more like a plea.

She didn’t move, her wrist still tingling from his touch. Instead, she took a slow sip of her whiskey sour, her mind spinning. Amelia Kane. The symbol. Cade’s haunted eyes. They were pieces of a puzzle she couldn’t stop piecing together.

The door slammed open, letting in a gust of cold air and Mara, her sharp eyes glinting with malice. She scanned the room, her smirk curling as she spotted Lila. “Still chasing ghosts, artist? You’re gonna wish you hadn’t.”

Lila’s grip tightened on her pencil. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mara didn’t answer, just sauntered to the bar, her heels clicking like a warning. Cade watched her, his hand lingering near his necklace, a reflex that didn’t escape Lila’s notice. Mara knew something—about the symbol, about Cade, maybe about Amelia. And she wasn’t the only one watching. Outside, in the fog, a shadow moved, too quick to be certain. A figure, maybe, or just the cliffs playing tricks.

Lila’s heart thudded as she packed her sketchbook, Cade’s warning ringing in her ears. But the symbol burned brighter than ever, and as she stepped into the fog, she knew she was too deep to turn back. Whatever Crescent Bay was hiding, it was calling out to her.

Author’s Note: Hey, loves! That symbol’s getting creepier. Right? 😱

What’s Mara’s deal, and why’s Cade so spooked? Drop your theories in the comments!

Chapter 4’s coming soon, and it’s gonna get intense. Vote if you’re hooked! xoxo