THE TOWN WHERE ETHAN COLE WASN’T A STRANGER
Chapter 1
The ocean was the first thing Ethan noticed.
Not the town.
Not the houses.
Not the harbor.
The ocean.
It stretched beyond the dark line of trees like a sheet of hammered steel, gray beneath a sky that seemed permanently bruised by rain.
Ethan had driven for six hours before seeing the first sign for Greyhaven.
He had almost kept going.
The road curved along the Oregon coast, wet asphalt shining beneath his headlights.
There were no other cars.
No radio station strong enough to hold a signal.
No reason to stop.
That was usually how Ethan liked things.
But then he saw the sign.
GREYHAVEN — POPULATION 4,812
Someone had painted a small blue wave beneath the lettering.
Ethan slowed.
He looked at the sign for several seconds.
Then he turned toward town.
He didn’t know why.
Maybe because he was tired.
Maybe because Bellwood had taught him that constantly moving didn’t make the past disappear.
Maybe because Noah had told him something before Ethan left Montana.
You don’t have to keep chasing what happened to us.
Ethan had asked him what he meant.
Noah had only smiled.
Maybe it’s time you find out what happens next.
So Ethan had driven west.
He had left Bellwood behind.
Left the old house on Maple Street.
Left the mayor.
Left the secrets beneath the town.
And, for the first time, left without knowing exactly where he was going.
Greyhaven appeared between the trees.
A gas station.
A hardware store.
A church.
A diner.
A small harbor crowded with fishing boats.
The town looked like it had been built around people who preferred staying where they were.
Ethan parked outside the diner.
The rain was falling lightly.
He sat in his truck for a moment with both hands resting on the steering wheel.
The engine ticked as it cooled.
He looked at himself in the rearview mirror.
A little older.
A little more tired.
The same eyes.
He had spent most of his life trying to become someone nobody could find.
Now he wondered what it would feel like to become someone worth finding.
He stepped out.
The bell above the diner door rang when he entered.
Warm air touched his face.
The smell of coffee and fried potatoes followed.
A waitress looked up.
She was in her sixties, with silver hair tied loosely behind her head.
She studied Ethan for exactly three seconds.
“You’re not from here.”
Ethan removed his coat.
“No.”
She pointed toward the counter.
“Sit.”
He did.
“Coffee?”
“Please.”
She poured it.
“Passing through?”
Ethan looked at the rain outside.
“No.”
She smiled.
“That’s usually what people say when they’re trying to convince themselves.”
Ethan glanced at her.
“You always interrogate customers?”
“Only the ones who look like they’ve got a story.”
“I don’t.”
“Everyone says that.”
She placed a menu in front of him.
“Breakfast?”
“Sure.”
“What?”
Ethan looked over the menu.
“Whatever is good.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Eggs.”
“How do you want them?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
She shook her head.
“You really don’t make things easy.”
Ethan smiled.
“Sorry.”
She studied him again.
“Name?”
“Ethan.”
“Ethan what?”
“Cole.”
The waitress nodded.
“June Parker.”
He gave her a small nod.
She walked away.
A man sitting near the window glanced at Ethan.
Then looked away.
Another customer whispered something to the person beside him.
Ethan noticed.
He always noticed.
But nobody came over.
Nobody asked about his past.
Nobody knew Bellwood.
Nobody knew Thomas Cole.
Nobody knew Noah.
Nobody knew what Ethan had spent the last year uncovering.
For once, his history hadn’t arrived before him.
He finished breakfast.
June returned.
“You need a place?”
“Maybe.”
“How long?”
“Don’t know.”
She smiled.
“I know a house.”
“Where?”
“Harbor Road.”
“How much?”
“Cheap.”
“Why?”
June wiped the counter.
“Nobody stays.”
Ethan looked at her.
“That’s usually a bad sign.”
“It is.”
“How bad?”
“Depends how much you like ghosts.”
Ethan almost laughed.
“I’m not worried about ghosts.”
“You should be.”
She walked away.
Ethan looked out at the rain.
“What’s the rent?”
June called over her shoulder.
“Three hundred a month.”
He turned.
“Done.”
She stopped.
“You’re not even going to see it?”
“I’ve seen worse.”
June looked at him for a moment.
“That’s what worries me.”
