The soft buzz of Penny's phone cut through the quiet stillness of her condo, dragging her out of a fitful sleep. She blinked against the harsh light of the morning, the weight of the papers and contracts she'd fallen asleep on pressing against her legs like an uncomfortable blanket. Her back ached from the awkward position she had slept in on the couch, and she groaned as she sat up, stretching her stiff limbs.

Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced at the screen, her heart tightening slightly when she saw the caller ID. Hank Morris.

Hank was one of the few people from Avon who still had a place in her heart. He had been a constant presence in her life ever since she could remember. Tall and burly, with graying hair and hands that had seen years of hard work in his auto shop, Hank had always treated her like his own granddaughter. He was a man of few words, but his gruff exterior hid a deep well of affection for those he cared about. His warm, no-nonsense presence had been a comfort to her during her childhood, and even after she'd left Avon, his occasional messages and the memories of him brought a sense of grounding she couldn't shake.

With a sigh, Penny swiped to answer, her voice still thick with sleep. "Hank? Is everything okay?"

"Honey, we've got a problem," Hank's gravelly voice came through the line, urgent and heavy. "I wouldn't be calling if it weren't. You know I don't ask for help unless it's bad."

Penny's brow furrowed. "What's going on?"

There was a pause on the other end, and she could practically hear Hank rubbing his hand over his face, a habit he'd always had when troubled. "It's the town, Penny. They're trying to buy everything up. I don't know how to put it, but it feels like they're trying to turn Avon into something it ain't—something that don't belong. They already bought out Knudsen's Sportswear. You know that place, right? It's now a damn coffee chain. A big one. And now, there's a mystery buyer making offers to the rest of the businesses, trying to scoop up the whole block."

Penny's stomach dropped as she sat up straighter, instinctively reaching for her robe. "A coffee chain? And... someone's buying the businesses? That doesn't sound like Avon. Who's behind this?"

"That's the thing," Hank said, his voice tight with frustration. "I don't know. But the offer they made me for the garage, for the whole building—it's enough to make anyone pause. They're offering top dollar. But that don't sit right with me. Something's off, Penny. I can feel it in my bones. I need you to come home, look at the paperwork, figure out what's going on. You're the only one I trust to do it."

Penny rubbed her temple, trying to push through the fog of sleep. A familiar pang of guilt twisted in her chest. She hadn't set foot in Avon for years, not since her parents passed. But Hank's words carried the weight of someone who had been a steady presence in her life, like family. If he was calling now, it had to be important.

"I... I don't know, Hank. I'm tied up with work, and you know how things are here in Boston." She could hear the hesitation in her own voice, the reluctance to return to a town she'd tried so hard to distance herself from.

"Honey," Hank's voice softened, the gruffness replaced by a kind of plea. "You're the only one who can help. I'm not asking for much. Just come back. Take a look. Help us save this town before it's gone for good. You know Avon needs you. I need you."

The words hit her harder than she expected. She took a deep breath, staring out the window at the cold morning, the weight of her decision heavy on her shoulders. "I'll... I'll think about it," Penny said quietly, her resolve crumbling slightly. "Give me some time, Hank."

"I knew I could count on you," Hank replied, the relief in his voice unmistakable. "I'll be here when you're ready."

She hung up the phone, the silence in her condo pressing in on her as she sat still, the decision gnawing at her. There was a tug in her chest, one she couldn't quite name. Of all the things she had left behind in Avon, Hank was one of the few she truly missed. He had been a constant—a steady hand, always there when she needed someone. The idea of returning to the town, even just for a short time, felt like reopening an old wound. But if something was really wrong, something that threatened the heart of Avon... Penny knew she wouldn't be able to ignore it.

She stood, staring at the phone in her hand, torn between the life she had built in Boston and the pull of the town that had once been her home.

Penny moved through her condo in a haze, the phone call with Hank still echoing in her mind. She couldn't remember exactly when her feet had carried her to her closet, or when her hands had started pulling clothes from the hangers, but before she fully registered what was happening, she was packing a suitcase. A few shirts. A sweater. Jeans. She tucked in a pair of boots. It all felt like motions she was going through on autopilot, her body making decisions faster than her mind could process them. Her head was still caught on the idea of returning to Avon, a place she had spent years running from, but something in her chest—a quiet, insistent pull—told her she couldn't say no to Hank.

Before she could stop herself, the suitcase was zipped, and she was grabbing her coat, slinging her purse over her shoulder, and stepping out into the cold, early morning air of Boston. The buzz of the city seemed so far removed now, its noise muffled by the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling inside her. She hailed a cab, and before long, she was heading to the train station, the rhythmic hum of the car tires on the pavement almost lulling her into a state of numbness.

It wasn't until she was standing in front of the train ticket counter that the reality of what she was doing truly hit her. The train was the only practical way to get to Avon. She had sold her car years ago, not long after she'd moved to Boston, deciding that dealing with parking and traffic was more hassle than it was worth. Besides, in the city, there was always somewhere to be, something to do. A car had seemed like a symbol of the life she had left behind—a life she had no intention of returning to. And yet here she was, preparing to board a train to a town she hadn't visited in over a decade.

The train ride felt surreal. The landscape outside the window blurred into a tapestry of vibrant fall colors—reds, oranges, and yellows—that flickered by as the train chugged along. Fall in New England was always beautiful, but it felt different now, as though the colors were a reminder of something she had lost, something she could never fully return to.

Her thoughts drifted as the rhythmic motion of the train soothed her. She found herself slipping backward in time, back to those fall days in Avon, when the world had felt simpler, when things had made sense. The warmth of the kitchen in her parents' house, the steady presence of Hank in the background, and the laughter that seemed to follow every conversation.

But inevitably, like it always did, her mind landed on Chris Sweetser.

She had tried to forget him over the years, burying the memories under layers of city life, career goals, and ambition. But it was impossible to fully erase him. Chris had been more than just her high school boyfriend; he had been a part of her life, a constant, before everything had shifted. His dark hair, the way it would always fall into his eyes, the steady rhythm of his hands when he worked at the café. Penny had never realized how much she had taken him for granted until he was gone from her life.

The last time they had seen each other, she had left Avon with nothing but a vague promise to "keep in touch." She had broken up with him right before she left for Boston, convinced that their small-town life was holding her back, that she needed to be something bigger than what Avon could offer. Penny had never expected to return—not for him, not for anyone. But now, as the train rumbled through the New England countryside, Chris's face surfaced in her mind with startling clarity. She could see his crooked smile, the way his eyes had looked at her with a mixture of confusion and hurt when she had walked away.

She could still hear his voice, that deep, warm laugh that had always made her feel like everything was going to be okay.

Penny hadn't thought about Chris in years. But now, his memory clung to her, dragging her back to the person she had been—the person she had tried to outrun. Her heart tightened as the train sped forward, the distance between her and Avon growing shorter with each passing mile. The thought of seeing him again, of returning to a place so intimately tied to their shared past, unsettled her in a way she hadn't expected.

The landscape outside the window shifted from urban sprawl to open fields, and Penny shifted in her seat, as if trying to shake off the sudden weight of her memories. Chris Sweetser, once a part of her world, was now a ghost she wasn't sure she was ready to face again. But the closer she got to Avon, the more certain she became that their paths were about to cross once more.