JUNE 13TH 2027, 5:26 PM

The sun began to set, hovering low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the coastal town of Kildare— the colorful yellows, oranges, and reds of the day giving way as the dark blues, purples, and blacks settled in. Sheriff Peterkin's patrol car rolled through the quiet streets. The rhythmic hum of the engine in the quiet of the evening was interrupted by a persistent plea from the passenger's seat.

"Come on," Birdie laughed, her voice light and playful as she attempted to convince her mom. "Just one time."

"I agreed to this ride-along because you said you would observe quietly," Sheriff Peterkin replied, her gaze flickering from the road to her daughter with a stern glare, though there was a slight softness underneath like she wasn't as annoyed as she was pretending to be. Birdie had been incessantly pleading for permission to turn the lights and siren of the police cruiser on since they had started the ride-along, and each time, her mother had denied her.

Birdie Peterkin had been fascinated with her mother's job since she was a child, and when the tragic disappearance of Soleil Campbell shook the town four years prior, a twelve-year-old Birdie was enthralled. The details of the case consumed her, the endless possibilities allowing a slight distrust and paranoia to settle in her mind as she battled with the idea that anyone could have had something to do with her disappearance.

Of course, many believed that Soleil simply ran away. She was a seventeen-year-old girl, after all, and seventeen-year-old girls are reckless, impulsive even. Young and dumb is what they always say, right?

Then some believed Rafe Cameron, son of wealthy real estate developer Ward Cameron, had killed Soleil and gotten away with it with help from the Cameron family's endless resources. Soleil's friends and family believed this theory the most. Her friends, the pogues, had claimed Rafe Cameron was the last person to see his girlfriend alive, and the police had heavily focused on him during their investigation, but nothing ever came of it.

The last theory is that Soleil's friends had something to do with her disappearance, and they claimed Rafe was the last to see her alive because they knew people would believe the boyfriend did it. Plus, who could argue with the alibis of five people? This was the narrative that Ward Cameron pushed to the public to protect his golden boy son, even though it drove his little girl far far away from him.

Birdie didn't know what to believe. There were so many facts and details that didn't add up. Soleil Campbell was there one day and gone the next— that's what got to Birdie. How did no one see her? How can no one agree on who was last to see her that day? 

How does someone simply just vanish without a trace?

Sheriff, do you copy?

A female voice crackled through the radio, pulling the sheriff's attention away from her spirited daughter. She reached for the handheld radio with practiced efficiency, pressing the button and speaking into it. "This is Sheriff Peterkin, I copy." Her eyebrows furrowed, causing Birdie to perk up with curiosity. She remained quiet as they awaited dispatch's instructions.

The dispatcher's voice was calm but tinged with urgency as it broke through the airwaves. "Uh, we have a 10-54 at the old Church on Whickam Road."

"A dead body?" Birdie's eyes widened as she identified the code. Having practically grown up in the police station, she was well-versed in the terminology and procedures.

"A 10-54?" Sheriff Peterkin repeated to herself quietly, her tone full of grave confusion. "Copy, we're on our way out," she said into the radio before docking it and abruptly turning to make her way toward the church. Birdie braced herself as they turned, the wheels of the patrol car rotating sharply, tires squealing against the road as gravity shoved Birdie against the passenger's side door. The atmosphere inside the vehicle shifted from casual and playful to one charged with anticipation and uncertainty. "Go on," her mom instructed, nodding to the control box for the siren.

Birdie reached forward, hesitating as her fingers hovered over the controls for a minute while she contemplated the abrupt shift. One minute, she was laughing and joking with her mom, ecstatic at the idea of turning the lights and siren on, and the next, she was dreading the action— an example of how quickly things can turn for the worst. Just like how Soleil went from being on top of the world one minute to never being seen again. She shook the haunting thoughts away, turning the lights and siren on. She thought she'd maybe see a drunk bar fight or a couple of kids robbing Doc's convenience store if she was lucky, but a dead body was something she wasn't sure she was equipped to handle yet.

The sun had fully set by the time they arrived at the scene, allowing only the lights of the police car and surrounding flashlights to illuminate the area which cast an eerie glow on the aged stones of the old Church, half of it sitting in piles of rubble around the building. The dancing lights created stark contrasts between light and shadow as Birdie, now more silent than ever before, absorbed the scene unfolding before her.

Cops swarmed the scene, ensuring bystanders who had caught wind of the tragic news were behind the yellow crime scene tape, so they didn't contaminate anything and allowed the police room to work. Birdie jumped, looking to her left as she heard the door open, her mother stepping out of the car with purpose. Her eyes slowly trailed back to the world beyond the windshield, taking a deep breath before getting out of the car and hurrying to catch up with her mother.

Tension hung in the air as they approached the crumbling church. A few construction workers stood off to the side, talking to police as they clutched their hats to their chests, heads held low. The sorrow was so thick in the air that she thought there must have been an accident on site and the death was that of someone from the crew.

The chilling truth lingered unspoken as the deputy greeted them.

"Sheriff," Deputy Shoupe greeted, glancing at Birdie warily. "Are you sure you want your daughter here for this?" He asked, his heart heavy with the discovery.

Birdie's eyebrows knit in confusion as she observed the deputy's demeanor. "Yes," Peterkin nodded firmly. "She's interested in policework, so she should observe all the aspects of the job." She looked over at her daughter with a stern disposition. "Especially the not-so-pretty ones."

"But Sheriff-" He began to protest earnestly.

"All due respect, Deputy, I'm not interested in taking parenting advice from you," she deadpanned, eliciting a suppressed grin from Birdie. "Now, please do your job and tell me what all this fuss is about."

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded, his face reddening from embarrassment as he led the duo toward the church. "Bobby's team was out here doing some construction, and they began their teardown of the old church." He explained.

"I didn't realize they were doing it so soon," Peterkin remarked, the teardown of the church having been a big debate among the town since Ward Cameron bought the property and shared his intentions of building a couple of houses out there.

He intended to build these vacation homes on the cut, tearing down the old church which was a historical landmark and the only building on this side of town that hadn't been vandalized because of how important it was to the community. Hence, the outrage surrounding Ward, an entitled kook's, purchase of the land.

"It's a good thing they did," Shoupe said. "Because when they started tearing up the pews and floorboards," he trailed off, swallowing thickly as he held up the crime scene tape to allow them to step inside. "They found a body, Susan." 

Birdie looked over at Shoupe, dread pooling deep in her stomach as they got closer and closer to the hole in the church floor. She pursed her lips, hoping to soothe the nausea as she cringed at the creek the floor made under her sneakers. She felt like she was in a horror movie— a helpless victim wandering unknowingly into their demise.

"It looks to have been here for a while and-" he paused, stopping short of the hole, not bearing having to look at it again. "And it they've deduced she was murdered."

Birdie gasped as she looked down, a fully intact skeleton staring back at her. Her hand covered her mouth as she recoiled in shock, her stomach turning as she recognized the fabric draped loosely around the bones. The outfit was unmistakable, though not as weathered as she remembered. It was clean, devoid of dirt stains and the holes from which the years of bugs and decaying flesh had eaten away at it, but undoubtedly the same.

A silver locket
A white bikini with blue flowers
A pair of jean shorts
And a worn pair of Converse— the words "I <3 Rafe Cameron" so faded they were almost invisible.

   Author's Notes.

 1507 Words

 This is kind of mid, but it's fine just ignore all the flaws and only focus on the good parts

 In the first chapter, we will be introduced to Soleil and her lively spirit as well as her relationship with the pogues and possibly her meeting Rafe for the first time 👀

 I hope you enjoyed this, and I'm very sorry for making you wait 4 months for this prologue. I promise the next chapter will come much sooner