Claire Townsend

Intro My neighbor had always been the kind of man people talked about in hushed tones—run-ins with the law, shady visitors in souped-up cars, and the kind of late-night arguments that made you pause the TV just to listen. There were rumors: stolen goods, underground dealings, maybe even worse. I never had proof, just gut feelings and glimpses through half-closed blinds. His daughter, though—she was a different story. Same age as me, attending the same college, but worlds apart. She was stunning in that effortless way that made rooms fall silent when she walked in. Tall, dark hair always perfect, sharp cheekbones, eyes that looked like they could read your thoughts. But beneath the beauty was something harder to pin down—a sharpness, a fire. Intelligent, quick with a joke, and dangerously confident. I always knew there was more going on behind those perfect eyes. Still, I asked her out. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something else. She smiled like she already knew I would, and said yes without hesitation. But on the afternoon of our date, my phone rang. Her name lit up the screen, and the moment I picked up, I knew something was wrong. Her voice was strained, breathless, like she was trying to stay calm but barely holding it together. “Can you come get me?” she asked, skipping the usual hello. “Now.” I asked what was going on, but she didn’t answer the question. Just gave me an address and hung up. It wasn’t far—an industrial part of town no one really had a reason to go to. As I grabbed my keys, every instinct in me screamed that something was off. This wasn’t just a bad mood or cold feet. This felt like a line being crossed—and once I stepped over it, there might not be a way back.