The first to testify is Becka. As always, the tall blonde woman looks calm and collected even on a day like today. Her tattoos and purple streaked hair clash nicely with the business-casual attire she wears. She swears on the Bible that she’ll tell the full truth and nothing but the truth, and then she takes a seat in that little box right beside the judge’s desk.

In front of her, Mrs. Pennett stands to face the judge and jury as she begins, “thank you, Ms. Duval, for taking the time to testify today. As you know, I’ll just be asking some questions to get a baseline understanding of who you are, your role at the Hotel, and your experience working under Andrei Wright. First of all, please tell me your title at Heart Hollow Honeymoon Hotel & Resort.”

“I’m the night manager,” Becka hums out cooly.

“Please describe to me some of the duties that you are responsible for.”

“I just oversee the Hotel at night. I put out a lot of fires for customers. Just cuz it’s the middle of the night, doesn’t mean toilets don’t overflow and AC units don’t fizz out. Aside from that, I’ll crunch some numbers and sales goals for Lewis in my downtime. I authorize receipts and digitize our guest book in Excel.”

Mrs. Pennett asks, “how long have you worked at the Hotel?”

“Five years this September.”

“And during your time working at the Hotel, how has Mr. Andrei Wright treated you?”

“Mmm,” Becka lulls this one over in her head, “he’s fine. He’s at the Hotel overnight a lot, but we mostly just ignore each other.”

The state attorney speaks up, “so you would agree that Andrei is disconnected from his employees?”

“For sure.”

Mrs. Pennett travels over to the state’s side, and the man at the table hands her a few pieces of paper clipped together. She hands two copies out to the jury and offers up a copy to Becka. She then says, “take a look at this exhibit. Can you please describe to the jury what this is?”

“It’s my timesheets for January and February. And this one shows my paystubs for those months.”

“Right. Now, if we add these timesheets up, Ms. Duval estimates at about fifty to sixty hours each week. Pennsylvania state law requires all non-salary employees to be paid time-and-a-half when working forty hours or more. Looking at her paystubs for these time frames, we notice that her overtime is completely unaccounted for. Ms. Duval, did you bring this matter up to Andrei’s attention?”

“Sure. He told me to talk to Lewis instead.”

“That’s the Hotel’s assistant manager, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did Mr. Lockheart say in regards to these unaccounted overtime hours?”

“Well, he doesn’t have control over payroll, so it was kind of outta his hands. He did tell me to document as much as I could; make copies of my timesheets and all that. He talked to Andrei about it a few times. I also did. We must have nagged him enough, because by April, all my paystubs showed my overtime.”

“Did you ever receive back pay for the money he owes you?”

“Nope. Not a penny.”

Mrs. Pennett nods her head as she collects the exhibits from the jury, “so, you worked nearly sixty hours a week starting with the new year, and you were never compensated for your time by the man that controlled payroll: Mr. Andrei Wright.”

“Pretty much,” she shrugs.

“How unfair. Thank you for your time, Ms. Duval. That’s all,” Mrs. Pennett states as she takes her seat at the prosecution table.

Now, the judge speaks up, “Mr. Dean, would the defense like to cross examine Ms. Duval?”

The bald man says, “we will pass at this time.”

“Very well,” the judge states, “you may be seated.”

Becka shimmies out of that big wooden box, makes her way down the corridor, and slides back into the benches. She made that look surprisingly easy. After a few moments of deliberation at the state attorney’s table, Mrs. Pennett eventually says, “the state would like to call up Ms. Rosa Flores to testify.”

Like clockwork, Zeke notices Rosa stand up from her spot within the crowd. She sits next to somebody that gives her hand a squeeze as she makes her way out of the benches. Her dark, wavy hair is worn down today, which is a change of pace to her usual bun. Just like everyone else, she wears business casual really well. She swears into oath and takes a seat beside the judge.

“Thank you for agreeing to testify today, Ms. Flores,” the state attorney says, “would you please tell me: how long have you worked at Heart Hollow Honeymoon Hotel & Resort?”

“Mmm,” Rosa thinks about it out loud, “my daughter just turned five… So, six years, give or take.”

“What is your title?”

“I’m the housekeeping manager.”

“And how has Mr. Andrei Wright treated you while you worked for him at his Hotel?”

Rosa laughs, “look, I’m legally required to be honest right now, so I’mma be honest. Andrei is an awful boss. He’s never out on the floor helping with anything because he’s too busy hiding away in his office getting drunk and banging his sugar baby. If you got a problem and you go to him for help, he pushes you away and tries to make you feel bad for thinking he would, I dunno, actually do something for a change.”

“I see,” Mrs. Pennett hums, “it makes me wonder: why stay working for him?”

She shrugs, “if you leave him alone, he leaves you alone. It’s as simple as that. To be honest, I kinda forget he’s even in that office of his. I hardly see him since he promoted Lewis.”

“Before Mr. Lockheart was the assistant manager, you would see Andrei Wright more frequently?”

“Mmhm.”

“Would you agree that Mr. Lockheart now acts as a buffer between the associates and the general manager Mr. Wright?”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it. I don’t even bother going to Andrei for anything anymore. If I got a problem, I’m knocking on Lewis’ little office door.”

“I see,” Mrs. Pennett says before collecting another piece of evidence from her desk. She hands two copies to the jury and offers a copy up to Rosa, “would you please take a look at this exhibit and explain what you see?”

“Sure. This is my offer letter from a couple years back. This is for my promotion from housekeeper to housekeeping manager.”

“This offer letter is a binding agreement that Ms. Flores will make an additional two dollars an hour for her promotion. Now, taking a look at the next page over… What can you tell us, Ms. Flores?”

“These are pay stubs from earlier this year. They were coming in a lot smaller than usual. Look, it literally says my old pay rate on the side here,” she points towards the paper, “oh, I was livid.”

“And how did you handle this?”

“Well, I went right over Lewis’ head and barged into Andrei’s office. It wasn’t until after I gave him a piece of my mind, did I realize that he had a tall glass of whiskey in one hand, a rolled up dollar bill in the other, and a mirrored plate sitting atop his desk. That pollino looked so effin’ confused,” Rosa laughs as she recalls the day, “his face was beet red. I couldn’t tell if it was anger, or if he was already drunk.”

“A mirrored plate? Could you please elaborate?”

“Oh, girl, you know,” Rosa puts a finger to the side of her nose, “la cocaína.”

“I see. Mr. Andrei Wright had an affinity for drugs while working at the Hotel?”

“Well, I’d hardly call what he does working. But sure, while on Resort grounds, he’d partake in drugs and alcohol. You know, he’d ask us to forfeit anything that we’d find in the rooms that was powdery or pill shaped,” she shakes her head, “fiend.”

“Would you agree that Andrei might have made mistakes because he was under the influence?”

“Either that, or he drinks because he’s made so many mistakes,” she crosses her arms, “c’mon, lady. He was supposed to be the heir to Wright Liquors and their crazy family fortune. Now he’s wasting his life up on that hill all by himself; drinking booze and selling old artwork to make ends meet. What the hell happened?”

A few murmurs shoot throughout the crowd, and the judge calls out, “order, please. Order.”

After a moment, Mrs. Pennett rounds up her thoughts, “back to the exhibit, were you able to work with Andrei to get your paychecks looking right again?”

“I tried, but Andrei insisted he hadn’t made an error. So I brought it up to Lewis. A few days later, he brought me a copy of my offer letter and told me to hang onto it in case there’s any more issues. Low and behold, my next check looked right. I dunno what that big ginger boy did, but he did something.”

“Did you ever receive back pay for the missing money?”

Rosa shakes her head, “not a penny. If I was rich enough, I’d hire Lawrence Lockheart and sue his ass. But,” she shrugs, “too much hassle than what it’s worth.”

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Flores,” Mrs. Pennett states as she collects the exhibits from the jury.

Again, the judge asks, “defense, would you like to cross examine Ms. Flores?”

“We would,” Mr. Dean says as he hoists himself up from his seat, “I’d like to ask the court reporter to read from Ms. Duval’s testimony. Please start with Mrs. Pennett’s question regarding unaccounted overtime hours.”

From the side of the room, the woman in front of the typewriter looking thing reads from her earlier records, “Mrs. Pennett asked: ‘and what did Mr. Lockheart say in regards to these unaccounted overtime hours?’ Ms. Duval responded: ‘well, he doesn’t have control over payroll, so it was kind of out of his hands. He did tell me to document as much as I could - "

But before she can continue, the defense attorney cuts her off, “thank you, that’s enough. Ms. Flores, I’m just curious… How do you think that Mr. Lockheart fixed your pay if he supposedly doesn’t have control over payroll?”

Rosa laughs a little, “Lewis can be persistent when he wants to be. Just like Becka said, he probably kept nagging.”

Zeke chuckles at that as Mr. Dean responds, “uh huh. Was Mr. Lockheart the one to issue the new offer letter to you?”

“Nah, Lewis wasn’t in charge of hiring or promoting people back then,” Rosa crosses her arms, “that’s just another thing that Andrei added to his plate recently.”

“So if he isn’t in charge of payroll, and he didn’t extend the promotion, how do you suppose that Mr. Lockheart got a hold of your offer letter?”

Rosa gestures to Mrs. Pennett, “well, I just told her that I don’t know what he did. Lewis fixed it. That’s all I care about.”

Mr. Dean says, “the sensible person would see his boss being swamped by work, and then gently remind him to look into a possible payroll accident. However, according to my client, Mr. Lockheart resorted to going through his belongings to obtain your offer letter.”

A few murmurs dance through the crowd, but Zeke just rolls his eyes. That just seems fabricated or blown way out of context. Apparently, Rosa feels this way too, because she says, “and do you have any solid proof aside from what that drunk has to say?”

“It’s proof that Mr. Lockheart is not above resorting to blackmail to get what he wants,” Mr. Dean practically barks.

“Oh, please. Look, even if that were true, maybe Andrei should have just paid me correctly the first time around,” she responds.

Mr. Dean asks, “can a man not make a mistake?”

“Oh, men make lots of mistakes,” Rosa states, “Andrei just never takes responsibility for them. Isn’t it about damn time that we hold him accountable?”

A few people chatter within the benches at that response. Mr. Dean looks over his shoulder towards them, and then his eyes dance towards Mr. Wright. He peers back up towards Rosa, “alright, please be seated, Ms. Flores.”

Rosa gets up and saunters down the corridor. She shimmies through the benches and takes her seat. She and the person that held her hand earlier share a few whispers as the attorneys collect their things and prepare for the next witness. In due time, Mrs. Pennett looks out across the crowd, “the state would like to call up one more witness before recess: Ms. Angeline Lovell.”

Zeke looks out amongst the benches and watches as she makes her way up from the very back of the room. Just like everyone else, Angeline sports a professional blouse and skirt today. She swears into oath and takes a seat beside the judge.

“Thank you for your time today, Ms. Lovell,” the state attorney starts, “you do not currently work at the Hotel, correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” her gentle voice hums.

“And what is the nature of your and Mr. Wright’s relationship?”

“I like to think of myself as his caretaker. I look after him and do things for him,” Angeline says as if she’s rehearsed it before.

“What kinds of things do you do for him?”

Even from here, Zeke can feel the discomfort radiating off the witness as she speaks up, “I like to bring him meals. He always forgets to feed himself healthy proteins and leafy greens. Um… Sometimes I’ll pick up his medication from the pharmacy,” she pauses to catch her words, “I… I talk with him. I talk him through things. I talk him out of things. I make sure he’s still alive when he’s been cooped up in his office all day. I - I just look after him. He doesn’t have anybody in his life to do that for him.”

“How did you meet Mr. Wright?”

“We met through a dating site,” she smiles bashfully.

“I see. So you two are dating?”

“Um,” Angeline thinks on this for a moment, “not traditionally. He pays me for my time. He’s helped to get me through nursing school.”

Mrs. Pennett says, “it sounds like you and him have what is called a sugar baby relationship. Would you agree?”

“That’s… How most people see us, yeah.”

“How does he pay you?”

“He just drops it right into my bank account every other Friday,” Angeline hums.

“I see,” the state attorney hums. She collects a new exhibit and passes out copies to the jury and to the witness. She asks, “Ms. Lovell, would you please explain the exhibit I just handed you?”

“Sure. It… It looks like some sort of HR paperwork for the Hotel. Payroll, maybe.”

“That’s correct,” Mrs. Pennett states, “these are the names of all the employees that are paid directly for their time at the Hotel. Would you please read the second to last name?”

Angeline hesitates before she reads out, “Angeline Lovell.”

Zeke gasps, and so does the rest of the crowd. Amongst the benches, people begin to speak in hushed tones to one another. After several moments of noise, the old judge lightly taps his gavel, “order in the court, please. Order.”

The room falls into an uncomfortable silence as everyone waits to see what happens next. Mrs. Pennett directs the conversation forward, “were you aware that Andrei Wright, the sole handler of the Hotel’s finances, added you to his company’s payroll?”

Angeline shakes her head.

“Please respond verbally,” the state attorney says.

“No, I didn’t know. I - I kind of felt like something was up though. Andrei shared a lot with me, but never payroll. He’d say it held confidential information about his employees: social security numbers, bank account numbers, all that. Really. I - I had no idea.”

“You say Mr. Wright shared a lot with you. Did he share things that are related to operations at the Hotel & Resort?”

Angeline shimmies in her seat anxiously, “yes.”

“Did he ever show you his financial bookkeepings?”

With extreme hesitation, she responds, “he did, yes.”

Small whispers break out amongst the benches, and Zeke furrows his brow. So… Mr. Wright shared the Hotel’s finances with his sugar baby and completely went over his assistant manager’s head? Zeke can’t help it: he peeks over to Lewis whose shoulders are tense, whose leg bounces, whose face reads with quiet animosity.

Mrs. Pennett continues, “after looking at his financial records, did you notice anything out of the ordinary for business expenses?”

Her light eyes dart around the room as she says, “a little, yes.”

“Would you elaborate on what you saw that may have signalled some unusual activity?”

“Yes, um,” Angeline hums hesitantly, “I noticed that he’d use the company card to fund personal expenses.” 

Mrs. Pennett asks, “would you say that Mr. Wright is fully aware that he misused the Hotel’s funds for personal purchases?”

Again, Angeline nods her head, “he was, yes.”

“Would you please take a look at this next exhibit and explain what you see here?” The state attorney says as she hands out more evidence of Mr. Wright’s corruption.

Angeline takes a hold of the paper, and her whole face shifts towards grief, “it’s a photocopy of Andrei’s recent bookkeeping logs.”

“Indeed it is. An anonymous tip was given to the Heart Hollow Police Department with these copies of the Hotel’s finances. After his arrest, the police department cross referenced Mr. Wright’s physical books and found an exact match. Ms. Lovell, would you please read off the items listed there?”

“Um. Sure. Total Payroll: $7,840. Car Insurance: $214.28. Drinks: $66.54. Dinner: $72.80. Birthday gift: $192.32. Medications: $35.00.”

“The only item listed that sounds like it’s actually for the Hotel is the declared payroll amount,” Mrs. Pennett tells the jury, “everything else appears to be personal expenses. Car insurance, dinner, a birthday gift, prescription medication. Ms. Lovell, thank you for your cooperation. That is all.”

The crowd begins to whisper to one another as the judge asks, “Mr. Dean, would you like to cross-examine Ms. Lovell?”

“That we would,” the bald man states as he gets up from the defense table. As he paces in front of the witness stand, he says, “Ms. Angeline Lovell. While your relationship with my client may be sexual in nature, there’s no denying that you were listed as an employee at Heart Hollow Honeymoon Hotel & Resort. I mean, we just viewed the exhibit that states your name on the payroll roster, did we not?”

“Well, yes, we did,” Angeline hums.

“And what about that bookkeeping log of the Hotel’s expenses?” Mr. Dean asks, “what can you tell me about the dinner and birthday gift that Mr. Wright claimed?”

“Oh. Um… That was for me. He took me out to eat at a nice restaurant in Allentown for my birthday. He also got me a gift.”

“Uh huh. A real diamond necklace, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Much like the one you’re wearing right now?”

Angeline gently grabs at the pendant around her neck, and she hesitates before she says, “uh, yeah. This is the one.”

Mr. Dean nods his head and peers over towards the jury, “it’s clear that Ms. Lovell and Mr. Wright have a bond, however there’s no denying her employment. He has a favorite employee, and he got her a very thoughtful birthday gift. He even treated her to dinner. To me, these seem like valid purchases with the business credit card for an employee. Maybe it’s a bit taboo for a boss to be so enamored by an associate, but can you expect anything different from the management at Heart Hollow Honeymoon Hotel & Resort?”

At that, the crowd begins to make comments to one another in hushed tones. Even Kara snickers; Zeke feels her gray eyes pierce into him, but he ignores it. After all, he’s too busy thinking about the bread rolls at Trueheart’s, and the homemade cookies that were wrapped with the utmost care. That was all just friendly… Right?

At the back of the room, Mr. Dean continues, “on the outside, these expenses may seem personal, but at the end of the day, it all ties back to the Hotel. A dinner and a gift for an employee. Medication and drinks to make sure that he can rest easy after a long, hard day. Car insurance to ensure that he can get up that mountain in time for his next shift. My client is the sole owner of this business and may use the funds at his discretion. That’s his right as an entrepreneur. Ms. Lovell, thank you for your time, but you may be seated.”

Angeline gets up from the witness stand and stumbles back into the benches. It’s clear that Mr. Wright knows what he’s been doing with his finances. It’s clear that he’s been taking advantage of his staff and the minimal income the Hotel makes. But pitting Angeline against him… Zeke feels weird about that, because it seems as though their relationship is beyond just physical. Zeke is brought out of his head as the judge calls out, “we’ll now be taking a one hour recess for lunch. Dismissed,” he says, banging the gavel once.

Immediately, the room fills with noise as people chat with one another. The jury shuffles back out through their designated door, the judge leaves through his, and the rest of the attendees scoot through the aisles towards the room’s wide exit. Zeke gives one last glance towards Sheriff Stoneheart; the man still stands perched in his spot towards the back of the room. His cold blue eyes, however, are already glued on the four Hotel employees. Zeke just furrows his brows as he follows the other three out of the courtroom. 

The corridors of the city hall are just about as crowded as they were this morning. People in business attire move around the small group as Kara leads them towards the exit. Once out in the fresh air, Zeke’s eyes struggle to adjust to the mid-afternoon sun that sits high in the sky. They congregate off to the side of the building’s entryway as they all decide on what to eat for lunch.

“I would kill for some tacos right now,” Kara hums, brushing loose hairs away from her face. In this direct sunlight, her jet black bangs are accented with purple hues. She adds, “ugh, and Cocina Familiar has the best carne asada.”

“That’s already a twenty minute drive though,” Cherry responds, her phone in hand as she searches for places to eat.

“So what?” Kara asks, “that leaves us with, like, twenty minutes to eat. That’s plenty of time.”

“For you, maybe. I’m a slow eater,” Cherry pouts.

Zeke just listens, because he’s not really sure he cares what they have to eat… Just as long as he gets something in his stomach soon. Instead of adding to their debate, he peers up towards Lewis; his thin ginger brows are knit, and his fingers anxiously fold into one another. His attention is glued to the Great Oak that lazily sways just in front of city hall. Even though direct sunlight hits his speckled, ivory face, his green eyes look haunted right now. Zeke’s gaze wanders just beyond the tall ginger, and a fuzzy historical building comes into view. He interrupts the two bickering women as he says, “hey. Trueheart’s is right there. And I didn’t actually get to try their food last time,” he hums, his eyes dancing up towards Lewis yet again.

This catches the ginger’s attention as he finally meets eyes with Zeke. His face relaxes a bit as he says, “that’d be lovely.”

“Oooh,” Kara purrs, peering over her shoulder towards the quaint restaurant just across the street from them, “they make a mean panini. I’m in.”

Now it’s Cherry’s turn to speak up, “can we order carry-out just to be safe? I dunno if they can get us dining inside in under an hour.”

“Sounds good to me,” Zeke responds, sticking his hands into his jeans’ pockets. His fingers graze his cigarettes, and he suddenly feels that undeniable nicotine ache. He pulls the crushed box out of his pocket and waves it lightly, “I’ll meet up with you guys in five.”

“Yuck,” Cherry’s face contorts as she peers up at the box.

“Kay,” Kara hums, “what do you want to eat, bozo?”

“Uhhh,” he thinks about it, but he doesn’t recall much of the menu. After all, a lot has happened since he and Lewis visited Trueheart’s last time. Instead, he looks up towards the ginger and grins, “pick something out for me. Best thing on the menu.”

For the first time in what feels like ages, Lewis gives him a light, honest smile and a gentle, “sure.”

Just like that, Kara leads the other two off to Trueheart’s to place their carry-out order. Zeke watches them cross the street; Lewis trails behind the two women as they make pace towards the restaurant. The teenager pulls a lone cigarette out before placing the box back into its denim enclosure. In its place, he pulls out his lighter. He sparks it up and instantly feels the tension release from his shoulders as he inhales that oh-so-familiar taste.

Shit. He didn’t realize how much he needed that.

From the landing in front of city hall, he watches as the three Hotel employees duck into Trueheart’s. Lewis, of course, holds the door open for the two women. Once his coworkers are out of sight, Zeke’s brown eyes find their way back towards the Great Oak. From here, he watches as an elderly couple shuffles up to the tree to pay their respects. His eyes then fall onto the iron wrought fence that encloses the Oak, and the perfectly pruned shrubs and flowers that decorate the adjacent sidewalk. While he can’t see it from behind the tree, he does picture that heart-shaped hollow at the base of the trunk. Supposedly, within the tree’s cavern, a dearly loved woman lies for eternity. Even though he’s in the sun and it’s the middle of the summer, Zeke feels a chill go down his spine.

“Do you have a lighter?”

Zeke whips around and meets eyes with an older woman. She’s got a cigarette in her hand, but it’s unlit. She gives him a gentle smile as she stares at him through oversized sunglasses. He’s a little caught off guard, but he nods his head anyways. He digs into his pockets and pulls out his lighter, “here.”

“Thank you, dear,” she smiles warmly. With the cigarette perched between her lips, she lights up the end. After a deep inhale and exhale of smoke, she hands the lighter back to the teenager, “you’re a lifesaver. I thought I had one in my purse,” she holds up a simple black clutch bag, “but it seems I’ve misplaced mine.”

“Happy to help,” Zeke hums back.

The woman beside him speaks up in a hushed tone, “I know we’re not supposed to chat about the trial… Oh, but what a thrill.”

This catches his attention, “you’re sitting in on Andrei’s trial?”

She smiles, “I am.”

“What do you think so far?” Zeke asks.

Now that they’re making small-talk, he catalogs what she looks like. She’s a short woman; even shorter than Kara without her big platform boots. Her graying, straight black hair is cut into a bob just above her shoulders. On her full figure, she wears a white button-up blouse tucked into dark brown wide-leg slacks. Under her sleeves, her deep olive skin pops out. Her nose is wide and soft, and her round lips wear a shade of lipstick that perfectly ties her outfit together. He’d make note of her eyes, but her big tortoiseshell sunglasses block the rest of her face. She takes a long drag off her cigarette, and fully exhales the smoke before she responds, “well, to be quite frank, I’ve known about his mismanagement for years. But to be so blatantly obvious about bending the rules and the law,” she nearly laughs as she shakes her head, “he’s a fool. Always has been.”

“Do you know him? Personally, I mean.”

“I used to. Not so much anymore,” she says. Before Zeke can think of something to ask regarding their previous relationship, the woman speaks up, “are you ready for your testimony?”

“My… Oh, no. I’m not testifying.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“Well… No one told me that I was,” Zeke says, scratching at his head with his free hand.

She nods her head slowly as she takes another drag off her cigarette. After she blows a lungful of smoke out, she asks, “may I share some old wisdom regarding the people of this town?”

“Be my guest,” Zeke responds.

She takes a moment to compile her thoughts before beginning, “the people of Heart Hollow love drama. Oh, and it’s not just drama… It’s full blown theatrics,” she smiles wildly.

A grimace forms on Zeke’s face, “what do you mean?”

“Surely you’ve noticed that these people have a passion for gossip. Rumors, folktales, drama, secrets, you name it,” she waves her cigarette as she talks, “they simply love a good story.”

Zeke thinks on this for a moment… Rosa has a knack for bad gossip, Cherry and Kara have a roommate agreement about secrets, and Lewis has a deep passion for the town’s history. Even Mr. Wright shared that story about the Lockhearts stomping on the brakes for Cupid while rushing to the hospital to give birth to their son. Ms. Trueheart shared that story about her encounter with Cupid, and the whole restaurant paused when Zeke was put on the spot to answer.

There’s even this plaque in front of the Great Oak that tells the tale of Hugh Heartwood, and how he unified these divided lands by burying his dead wife within that tree’s heart-shaped hollow. Oh, what about Wallace Heartwood? The guy supposedly got caught doing human trafficking at the Hotel, and he supposedly disappeared, but he also supposedly died on the Hotel grounds. It’s all hard to believe, although Zeke is pretty sure about that last one, at least.

To the teenager’s silence, the woman speaks up again, “these people love a wicked turn of events. They love the wide range of emotions and responses that come with each new development. They thrive off it,” she takes a long drag of nicotine, leaving space for Zeke to talk. He wants to see where she’s going with this, however, so he keeps his mouth shut.

She continues once her lungs are emptied, “they’ve written themselves a very interesting and in-depth narrative about these hills and the people who have tended to them. Of course,” she smiles, “nobody will ever admit to directly altering the story a little; or helping it fester into something more than it actually was.”

“So… Don’t believe everything I hear?”

“Well, sure, but that’s pretty basic advice,” she hums. Her honesty cracks a smile out of Zeke. She continues, “what I’m saying, is that these people play dirty. They don’t care about you. They care about what enrichment they’re going to get out of you. And trust me, Zeke. If you give them a chance, they’ll eat you alive.”

He soaks up her wisdom, but he tries to not let that last part get to him. Actually… He doesn’t recall giving her his name. Without thinking, he asks the only question that pops into his head, “you’re not from around here, are you?”

She smiles and pauses for a moment, “I am and I’m not.”

Zeke just nods his head lightly despite the fact that this doesn’t clear much up. He then peers back over to her with those big, round umber eyes of his, “do you really think they’re gonna make me testify?”

Through her dark sunglasses, the two smokers meet eyes. She suggests, “absolutely. Would you like me to tell you why I think that?”

Zeke just nods his head to grant her permission.

“Heart Hollow Honeymoon Hotel & Resort has been on the decline since the mid nineties. All that time, Andrei has been doing absolutely nothing but milking his business dry. Sure, he’s kept a low profile. But I guarantee you, Mayor Heartwood and the rest of the town’s legislators know exactly what he’s been doing up on that hill. Every missed electric bill, every fire code violation… Andrei clearly wasn’t covering up his tracks. It’s almost like he wanted them to catch him. So why on Earth would the Heart Hollow Police Department wait so long to finally arrest him?”

The gears churn in Zeke’s head as he tries to put the puzzle pieces together. The woman leans in, and she’s got a dubious grin on her face, “I’ll give you a clue: it’s not a mere coincidence that Andrei got arrested so shortly after your arrival into Heart Hollow.”

First, Zeke’s brows furrow. Then, his mouth opens to say something, but he doesn’t have anything to say. He just gazes back towards her as he musters out, “so… You think they arrested Andrei just because I moved into town?”

In a low voice, she continues, “you’re new here. You don’t have a story yet… But you’re awfully close with this town’s biggest star since Wallace Heartwood,” she hums, her attention nodding off past Zeke. He follows her gaze, and he spots the three Hotel employees making their exit from Trueheart’s. Lewis holds one decently sized paper bag by the handles, and with the other hand, he holds the door open for the two ladies as they carry their respective drinks.

At Zeke’s side, the older woman continues, “since they caught wind of your arrival, these people have been eagerly waiting to lift the roof off that old Hotel and watch as the next act takes place in the great Broadway play of Heart Hollow, Pennsylvania.”

Zeke bites his lip as he watches his coworkers trek back across the street towards the city hall. He has so many questions, but so little time… He jumps on the opportunity to pry while he has it, “Andrei said Lewis has skeletons in his closet.”

Once their eyes meet, she just asks, “and you don’t?”

Zeke’s jaw clenches shut.

She flicks her cigarette butt off to the bushes as she continues, “don’t worry. We all do, dear. Some people’s skeletons are just… Not as conventionally attractive as others,” she smiles up at him warmly. She takes a few steps back, indicating her departure back into the building. She does, however, leave Zeke off by saying, “you’ve got tough skin. Don’t let them get through it.”

Zeke doesn’t know what to say, and even if he did, he doesn’t have time; she’s already halfway through the crowded entryway of the governmental building. He moves his attention back towards the other side of the street, simply watching as his friends close the distance with their carry-out lunch. All he can do now is peer down towards the cigarette that rests between his fingers in a safe, familiar way; however, it seems the flame has gone out.