It was not the sort of story that could stay hidden in a small town. People in Florence paid attention to everyone else’s details: a car missing from a driveway in the early morning hours, a skipped shift at work, one less body tucked into the pew on Sunday morning. This was how the people of Florence governed themselves: with the understanding that there was no such thing as a secret.

In the quiet darkness of her backyard, Annemarie sat in wonder, gazing at the brilliance of a full moon. A “super moon” technically, though she couldn’t remember at the moment what its special name was tonight… Harvest moon? Hunters moon? It didn’t matter. The beauty was positively hypnotizing as the moon dazzled like a jewel, with twinkling stars sprinkled all around it in the perfect, clear night sky. Its glow illuminated the woods with gentle moonbeams filtering down between the trees.