i.
the lying game
“We are but fragile echoes in a world that demands permanence, yet shatters at the lightest touch of truth.”
Chapter One
October 30th, 2022
Calamity Hills Church, Mills Creek, Massachusetts
They were liars, bound by tales that dripped from their lips like soft fallen honey, melting and molding every inch of their life into a cesspool of betrayal. They had become accustomed to it—the lies, the deceit that seemed to follow them wherever they went. One lie became another, and then another, until eventually they weren’t sure where the truth began, and where the lies ended anymore. It was all tethered to that night; that fateful night when their innocence, what bit was left no thanks to the world, had vanished right before their eyes. But they had long since stopped blaming Willow for their inability to tell the truth. She was dead. This was on them.
Their sins were their own now.
Death is a paradox, Lilia mused as she stood amid the sea of mourners in the dimly lit church. It strips away the facade of permanence, revealing the fragility of human existence. Life, so vibrant and full of promise, can be extinguished in an instant,leaving behind only memories and sorrow. The air was heavy with grief, the weight of loss pressing down on her chest like a leaden cloak. She glanced around at the sad faces, the tears glistening in the flickering candlelight. Willow’s funeral was a stark reminder of life’s fragility, a cruel twist of fate that had snatched away their friend far too soon.
Lilia’s gaze drifted to the front of the church where Willow’s casket lay draped in flowers, a silent testament to the tragedy that had befallen them. It felt surreal, standing there amid the hushed whispers and stifled sobs as if she was trapped in a nightmare from which she would never wake. The weight of it pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe. As she glanced around the room, she winced.
You would think she’d be used to it by now.
The stares.
The soft murmurs followed by widened eyes and looks of sympathy, some even intoned with speculation and slit irises declaring that she was a suspect. You would think that they wouldn’t hold weight anymore after the six months following the disappearance, but they did. They were like thorns in her side, never leaving, never wavering. Like a bad cold, or a stench.
She shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, her eyes flicking to her friends for reassurance. They stood together, a tight-knit group that seemed impenetrable to outsiders, yet within their ranks, the weight of their secrets was a heavy burden.
Sebastian, with his tall frame, just a bit shorter than Augustus, subtly reached into his jacket pocket, producing a small flask. His nearly black hair fell across his forehead, barely hiding the mischievous gleam in his blue eyes. He took a quick, furtive sip before passing it to Delilah, who merely shook her head but couldn’t suppress a small smile.
“Really, Seb? At a funeral?” Augustus whispered harshly, his brow furrowed in disapproval.
Sebastian shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “What? I thought Willow would appreciate a little rebellion.”
Delilah softly chuckled, but the sound was tinged with sorrow. “She probably would’ve.”
Eleanor, standing slightly apart from the group, fidgeted with her necklace, her heart-shaped face paling even more under the dim lighting. Her wide blue eyes darted around nervously before she caught Lilia’s gaze and offered a small, tight-lipped smile. Lilia returned it, squeezing Eleanor’s hand briefly in a gesture of comfort.
The priest’s voice echoed through the church, offering words of solace and comfort, but Lilia found it hard to focus. Her mind kept drifting back to the last time she had seen Willow Montgomery. It had been a night filled with laughter and light-hearted banter. They had danced, their laughter echoing across the lake as they revealed in the freedom of youth. But now, the joy seemed to be like a distant memory, overshadowed by the specter of death that loomed over them all. Willow’s absence cast a pall over everything, a gaping hole in the fabric of their lives that would never be mended.
Everyone knew the story of the night Willow went missing. It had practically become an urban legend in this prim, squeaky-clean town. On the surface, Mills Creek was the epitome of idyllic small-town life; pristine lawns, stately homes, and a sense of community that bordered on the claustrophobic. The elite of society lived here, their secrets buried as deep as their old money roots. The town was home to Hawthorne University, an Ivy League institution where appearances were everything, and reputation was worth its weight in gold.
The final strains of the hymn faded into silence, and the mourners began to file out of the church, their solemn faces arepresentation of the lifeless October air outside. Lilia paused on the steps, her eyes searching the crowd until they landed on the figures of Willow’s family.
“Shit,” Sebastian murmured from her side, under his breath, his voice barely audible over the hushed whispers.
The moment they laid eyes on Willow’s family, a sense of dread settled over them like a suffocating blanket.
Her mother, a picture of inconsolable grief, locked eyes with Lilia and her expression darkened with fury. Without a word, she stormed toward them, her steps heavy with purpose.
“Mrs. Montgomery?—”
With a sudden motion, she lashed out, her hand connecting with Lilia’s cheek in a sharp slap.
“How dare you show your face here,” she seethed, her voice laced with venom. “After what you did to my baby, you have the nerve to come here and pretend to mourn her?”
The town seemed to form lies quickly after Willow’s murder was announced. Pointing fingers at anyone they could. The townsfolk just needed someone to blame, and who made an easier target for mindless conspiracies and futile attacks than the blonde’s closest friends? The rumors spread like a wildfire.
Lilia had always been in Willow’s shadow, at her side, pandering like some trained lap dog. Always ready to do her bidding. They had been the closest. So, of course, shemusthave killed her, right?
