Every town has its stories, its secrets. What possible harm could come from sharing them?

Hmm? This. from sharing them. This is Small Town horror.

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It's a long drive.

But what choice did I have?

The moment I let Joe go, I knew I didn't have much time. There wasn't a single scenario where I imagined he wouldn't go to the cops and tell him what I'd done.

He used it as leverage to get Julie back.

And I couldn't blame him.

But it didn't change the fact that I still wanted answers. If I was going back to a cage, I wanted

to spend what little time I had left trying to put all this behind me.

And if Joe was the one responsible for all those messages, then that means whoever

kidnap me really must have let me leave Creighton and why I was

taken in the first place is something I may never know.

The fact was, I had made myself a prisoner.

Sometimes the only thing worse than knowing is not knowing.

I've said it before.

I don't do well when I've had too much time to think. I missed the turn the first time I drove past that for the last hour I'd sort of zoned out

pretty much from the moment I got past the luth in two harbors.

I didn't even realize it until I looked to my right and saw the huge white letters of the Taconite

Harbor Energy Center painted across the processing plant.

...