⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ the truth ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!!!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:) STOP BEING A GHOST READER!!!

the reason i always say "please don't be a ghost reader" it helps me stay motivated because that means people are reading my stuff. and unlike other people, they have so many views on their books and i love to write and it just helps me stay motivated. and i know i unpublish and republish my chapters and i get thats really annoying but its annoying when i see views go up but low on votes. STOP BEING A GHOST READER!!

【 SEASON EPISODE 5 PART 3 】

The campfire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows over the Pogues as they lounged in the dim light of evening. Clara sat cross-legged on the sandy ground, her hands fidgeting with a loose thread on her worn jeans. The tension was palpable, a hum of expectation hanging in the cool night air. The scent of salt and wood smoke mingled in the breeze, carrying with it the anticipation of whatever Clara had to say.

Pope wandered over, plopping down onto an empty log with an exasperated sigh. "Alright, what's this all about?" he asked, glancing around the circle. "My dad's already gonna kill me for being out late, so this better be good."

John B, seated beside Clara, turned his head to his sister, his brow furrowed in curiosity. "Yeah, Clara, what's going on? You've been acting weird all day."

Clara hesitated, her gaze darting to JJ, who was leaning back with his usual air of nonchalance, twirling a stick in his hands. He caught her look and smirked. "You might as well tell them, Clara, before they start freaking out on their own."

Clara huffed, taking a deep breath. She felt the weight of their attention bearing down on her and straightened her posture, even as her heart thumped erratically in her chest. "Alright," she started, her voice wavering slightly before she steadied it. "To start off... the gold never went down with the Royal Merchant."

The reaction was immediate. Pope groaned, rolling his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't fall out. "Oh my God. Here we go again with this," he muttered, throwing his hands in the air.

"Hold up," JJ cut in, his voice sharp as he glared at Pope. "Hear her out, man. You don't even know what she's about to say."

Pope threw his hands up. "Fine. But I'm just saying-"

"Shut up and listen," Clara snapped, surprising herself with the edge in her voice. She pressed on, her nerves electrified. "The gold... it's been here the whole time."

John B's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "On the island?"

Clara nodded. "Yeah."

Kiara let out a disbelieving laugh, her head tilting back as she slapped her hands against her knees. "Oh my God, you're serious," she said, grinning despite herself. "This is insane."

Pope wasn't as entertained. "I'd like to voice my skepticism," he said dryly, leaning forward with a skeptical expression.

Clara reached into her backpack, pulling out a weathered, yellowed letter and holding it up. "You can be as skeptical as you want, Pope, but I've got evidence. I have a letter from Denmark Tanny."

Kiara frowned. "Who the hell is Denmark Tanny?"

Clara's confidence grew as she explained. "Denmark Tanny was a slave who survived the Royal Merchant wreck. He's the key to everything. Look at this." She passed the letter to Kiara, who took it hesitantly.

John B leaned in, his voice filling the gaps in her explanation. "Slaves weren't mentioned as crew members on the ship, but my dad found the complete manifest. That was his big discovery."

Clara picked up where he left off, her words steady now. "Tanny used the gold from the Merchant to buy his freedom," she said, watching as Kiara's expression shifted from confusion to intrigue.

Kiara whistled low, handing the letter to Pope, who inspected it closely.

"And after that," Clara continued, "he bought his farm. That farm is..." She trailed off, a flicker of satisfaction crossing her face as she saw Kiara piece it together.

Kiara slapped her knees again, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Tannyhill Plantation."

"Yep," Clara confirmed with a nod. "After that, he used his money to free even more slaves. But that pissed off the white planters, and they decided to lynch him."

John B took over the story again, his voice dropping to a somber tone. "So, on the day they were coming to get him, he writes a letter to his son as a farewell. In the last line of that letter, he leaves a coded message about where to find the gold."

Kiara leaned forward, her face alight with curiosity. "Where?"

Clara pointed to a specific line on the letter. "Harvest the wheat in parcel nine, near the water. Except... there's no wheat. Wheat is code for gold."

"The gold is in parcel nine, near the water," John B repeated, his voice tinged with awe. "All we need is an original survey map of the property, and we've found the gold."

Kiara laughed, her excitement bubbling over. "Oh my God, this might actually be true!"

Even Pope looked impressed, though he crossed his arms stubbornly. "Okay, so... there's a small chance this might not be total bullshit," he admitted grudgingly.

JJ jumped to his feet, grabbing John B in a playful hug and lifting him off the ground. "You're a genius, man! I'm so proud of you!"

"Hello! Fire! You're gonna burn me alive!" John B protested, flailing as Clara and Kiara burst into laughter.

When the laughter died down, Pope brought the group back to focus. "Alright, so what's the plan?"

Clara hesitated, biting her lip as she glanced at JJ, then back at the group. "Sarah Cameron's coming tonight," she said cautiously. "She's bringing an original survey map."

John B froze, his jaw dropping in shock. "Wait-what?"

Kiara's smile vanished, replaced with a mixture of confusion and anger. "Hold on. Sarah Cameron? Why the hell is she involved in this?"

Clara swallowed hard, her hands clenching into fists as she prepared for the fallout. "She helped me get into the archives at Chapel Hill yesterday. I- I needed her help."

JJ, sensing the impending explosion, took off his hat and muttered, "This is gonna be good."

"You went to Chapel Hill with Sarah Cameron?" Kiara's voice was rising now, incredulous and furious. "And now she's just... what, part of the group?"

Clara took a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "We're... I'm dating her."

Kiara's jaw dropped, her anger boiling over. "You're WHAT?"

"I've liked her for ages," Clara admitted, her face flushed with emotion. "It just... happened."

"You let a Kook in on our secret?!" Kiara shouted, standing up now.

"I needed her help!" Clara yelled back, tears pricking at her eyes. "And we... we happened, okay?"

John B tried to step in, his tone placating. "Look, I don't love this either, but Clara can't help who she likes-"

"A Kook, John B!" Kiara snapped, cutting him off. "And Sarah Cameron no less!"

Clara's throat felt tight as tears spilled down her cheeks. She turned abruptly and stormed away toward the Twinkie, leaving the group in stunned silence behind her.

JJ sighed, shaking his head. "Well. That went about as well as expected."

The storm raged on as Clara made her way to the Hawk's Nest, her heart pounding in rhythm with the thunder echoing across the darkened skies. Rain drenched her hair and clothes, plastering the fabric to her skin as she climbed the slippery ladder, each rung slick beneath her fingers. The wind howled, carrying with it the occasional distant snap of lightning that illuminated the world for brief, fleeting moments. Somewhere below, the Pogues waited in the Twinkie, the van's headlights faintly visible through the dense foliage. But Clara was focused on the figure waiting above.

Reaching the top, Clara pulled herself onto the wooden platform, the familiar creak of the boards underfoot drowned out by the storm. Sarah stood there, leaning casually against the railing, her blond hair matted with rain, her face lit up in a way that made Clara's chest tighten. The map-the map-was clutched in Sarah's hand, its edges curling with dampness.

"I got it," Sarah called over the sound of the rain, her voice light but triumphant as she held up the map. She took a step toward Clara, her eyes shining with excitement. "Do you wanna see?"

Clara nodded, stepping closer until they were just inches apart. As Sarah carefully unfolded the map, Clara leaned in, her breath hitching at the sight of it. The details were intricate, the ink still bold despite its age.

"Oh, shit," Clara muttered, a laugh escaping her lips. She couldn't tear her eyes away. "You really got it."

Sarah grinned, her smile brighter than any lightning flash. "Of course I did."

"Thank you, Sarah." Clara's voice was earnest, her eyes flickering from the map to Sarah's face.

Sarah shrugged lightly, but the smile on her lips softened. "Of course. Anything for you." She hesitated, then added with a curious tilt of her head, "Did you tell your crew you were meeting me?"

Clara exhaled, running a hand through her damp hair. "Yeah. They're waiting for me... but Kiara's pissed."

Sarah rolled her eyes, smirking. "Of course she is. She'll get over it." Her tone was dismissive, but there was something else lingering in her expression-an unspoken thought.

After a beat of silence, Sarah looked back at Clara, her voice quieter now, almost tentative. "By the way... I'm breaking up with Topper."

Clara froze. The words hit her like the thunder rumbling in the distance-sudden and electrifying. Her heart stuttered, then took off, pounding against her ribcage.

"Good," Clara said simply, but the steadiness in her tone didn't reflect the chaos inside her.

And then, before she could overthink it, she leaned forward and kissed Sarah. The rain fell harder as their lips met, the world around them fading into a blur of water and wind. Sarah responded immediately, her arms wrapping around Clara's waist, pulling her closer. Their kiss deepened, the heat of it contrasting sharply with the cold rain soaking them both.

A loud crack of thunder startled them, and they broke apart, laughing as they clung to each other. "What are we even doing up here?" Sarah asked between chuckles, her forehead resting against Clara's.

Clara grinned, brushing a strand of wet hair out of Sarah's face. "I have no idea. You wanna go down?"

But Sarah shook her head, her smile turning mischievous. "No." And just like that, she kissed Clara again, her hands sliding up to cup Clara's face. The intensity between them grew, their lips moving together with a kind of urgency that made the storm feel distant and inconsequential.

It wasn't until a voice cut through the rain that the moment shattered.

"I knew it, Sarah. I knew you were lying to me."

Both girls froze, breaking apart abruptly to see Topper standing at the top of the ladder. His face was twisted in anger, his eyes bloodshot and glassy. He looked unsteady on his feet, and it didn't take long for Clara to realize he was drunk.

"Topper!" Sarah exclaimed, her voice sharp with disbelief.

"You're a stupid, lying whore," he spat, his words slurred and venomous.

"Hey!" Clara snapped, stepping in front of Sarah instinctively.

Sarah stared at him, her expression shifting from shock to anger. "So first I'm a prude, and now I'm a whore?" she shot back, her voice rising with every word.

"Yeah, you are," Topper sneered, swaying slightly as he spoke. His rage was palpable, his movements erratic.

Clara clenched her fists, her jaw tightening. "Topper, stop. You're drunk. Go home." She stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest to push him back slightly.

But Topper batted her hand away, his drunken fury turning on her. "No! You stop, dyke!" he shouted, jabbing a finger in her direction. His words hit her like a physical blow, the slur ringing in her ears.

Clara felt her throat tighten, tears threatening to blur her vision, but before she could respond, Sarah stepped forward, her voice sharp and unwavering. "Hey! Don't call her that!"

Topper ignored her, his attention back on Sarah as he continued shouting, his words incoherent and filled with spite. Clara tried again to push him back, placing her hands firmly on his shoulders this time. "Topper, enough!"

But he didn't listen. Instead, he shoved her hard, his strength amplified by his drunken state. Clara's footing slipped on the rain-slicked wood, and before she could regain her balance, she stumbled backward.

"Clara!" Sarah's scream pierced through the storm as Clara's back hit the railing. The world seemed to tilt as she tumbled over the edge, the wind rushing past her as she fell.

She hit the ground hard, the impact jarring every bone in her body. The damp leaves cushioned her fall slightly, but the pain was immediate and sharp. Above her, Sarah's panicked voice called her name, but it sounded distant, muffled by the roaring in her ears.

The rain continued to pour, soaking her motionless form as the world around her faded to black.

ASH SPEAKS!!

i love them so much.

sooo who should plat john b's love interest in s2? (she will take the role of the storyline for sarah in s4)

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!!!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:)

the reason i always say "please don't be a ghost reader" it helps me stay motivated because that means people are reading my stuff. and unlike other people, they have so many views on their books and i love to write and it just helps me stay motivated. and i know i unpublish and republish my chapters and i get thats really annoying but its annoying when i see views go up but low on votes. STOP BEING A GHOST READER!!