Into the Fog

Nadia sat in her old Ford Escape, staring at the dark cabin in front of her. It sat buried in the trees, nearly hidden in the night though she could hear the steady roar of the waves. The beach and ocean were just on the other side of the house and she imagined it probably was beautiful in the daylight.

Right now the building was silent and empty, her headlights providing the only light, giving her a straight view of the front of the house and the porch that spanned it. An ancient SUV was parked to the side, looking as though it hadn’t been driven in months.

Nadia took a deep breath and leaned forward on the steering wheel, studying the structure in front of her. It was different here. Quiet. She wasn’t used to quiet. Or the feeling of being the only person within a few miles radius. Part of her wondered if she should be frightened. The small, dark town she had driven through to get here had certainly appeared creepy. But yet, Nadia felt an odd comfort even though she had never stepped foot in the area before.

And curiosity.

She wondered how long she intended to sit in the car before she went in. And just what secrets about her past the home held.

“What could you be hiding?” she whispered into the darkness.

Nadia was surprised how big the house was, though maybe she shouldn’t have been. She had never met her grandmother. Didn’t even know what she looked like or much about her at all. The only times her mother mentioned the woman, it was usually mutters about how she never understood. Or the rare times she heard her mother crying in the middle of the night when she was supposed to be asleep, whispering, “I’m sorry, Mama…”

Granted, Nadia never really knew how to take the things her mother said. There were times when she seemed lucid. These were usually the rare moments Mara Johansen was ever sober. But even then, she would tell Nadia that she had to be careful. That it wasn’t safe to tell anyone who she really was. As such, every few moves, Mara would change their names. Nadia grew so tired of it that after her mother had dumped her off with a neighbor just before she started high school, she returned to her original name out of spite.

Nadia was fairly certain that the demons Mara ran from were more imagined than real anyway.

Thankfully, the only thing Nadia had gotten from her mother was her dark brown hair, tan skin, and features. She remembered thinking her mother had been rather beautiful when she was a child. And that she had a beautiful voice, though Nadia hadn’t heard her sing since she was a small child. There was a time when she wished she had her mother’s warm brown eyes that reminded her of melted chocolate. Instead, Nadia had a peculiar shade of blue that was almost purple at times and attracted more attention than Mara had wanted. Well before she was old enough, her mother forced her to wear brown contacts.

A habit Nadia continued to this day, though she hadn’t stopped to wonder why. It had long ago become a habit, and well, she did have to admit that she too wasn’t fond of the attention her eyes drew the few times she ventured out of the house without contacts.

It was another on the long list of strange things Nadia’s mother had done that she learned to never question. When Nadia was younger, her mother had made it seem like a game. But eventually - like all things - her mother gave up on that.

Nadia wondered just what role the woman who had lived - and then died - in this old cabin in the woods near the sea had played in it all.

A woman who had left everything to a granddaughter she had never met and somehow managed to track down after years of estrangement. Though it wasn’t like Nadia had made it hard. She had been in Boston since high school and went by her real name for the first time in her life. It was surprising her mother hadn’t somehow found out about it in the many years since then, as paranoid as Mara was.

The young woman shook her head, turning her thoughts back to wondering about her grandmother rather than her own life. The cabin was certainly bigger than the apartment she had shared back in Boston with her old college roommate. And seemed to match up with the sizeable savings that had also been left to her - enough that she wouldn’t have to worry about working for a decent amount of time, so long as Nadia didn’t need to use it on the house.

Despite being older, the cabin seemed in good order. It looked as though it might be warm and welcoming, should the lights be turned on.

For not the first time since finding out she was dead, Nadia wondered what her grandmother did when she was alive. How she had lived all these years in the woods just outside a small fishing village in the Pacific Northwest that no one had heard about.

A village that was funnily enough - at least in Nadia’s opinion - named Fisher’s Bay.

Anyway, she must have taken good care of the cabin. Or maybe it was someone else because there were flower pots on the porch full of vibrant and very much alive blooms. As far as Nadia was aware, her grandmother had died a couple months ago. Perhaps there was a neighbor hidden somewhere nearby.

Did that extend to inside the house, she wondered. There was only one way to find out, but Nadia wasn’t quite ready to do so. But soon. Her body ached from days of driving and she was desperate to sleep in a bed on a decent mattress and not worry about what was in the sheets or who had sullied it before she slept there. Being a reporter hadn’t afforded her much luxury in terms of accommodations on the cross-country drive.

Scratch that. Former reporter.

Nadia’s stomach turned, but she forced herself to focus on the cabin.

Sighing, she leaned back in her seat, resigning herself to the fact that she couldn’t sit out here all night. Leaving the headlights on, Nadia reached over and grabbed the set of keys that had come in the parcel along with the letter and a copy of her grandmother’s will, and her phone, then slid out of the car. Gravel crunched under her shoes as she made her way to the house, carefully walking up the old stairs to the front door.

A sense of unease fell over her. Her grandmother had died in this house. While Nadia wasn’t a big believer in the supernatural, she felt like the house held… something. Secrets, maybe? Or perhaps her grandmother’s soul was truly trapped here and she was destined to haunt it forever.

Nadia’s hand faltered just as she was about to slide the key into the lock.

“Fuck, get a grip,” she muttered.

She shook her head, banishing the thought from her mind. There was no such thing as ghosts. Only memories could haunt and she didn’t have any of her grandmother, thanks to her mother.

No, the things that haunted her mind were of her own doing. And it seemed that running to the other side of the country hadn’t worked on banishing them just yet. But hopefully soon.

Fisher’s Bay was supposed to be a fresh start just as much as an opportunity to get to know the life her mother had left behind over 30 years ago.

The key slid in easily and soon the door was unlocked. Nadia turned the knob and pushed it open, bracing herself for the stale air of a house that had been shut up for a couple months. Instead, she was greeted by the scent of lavender and spices that she couldn’t name. Frowning slightly, she stepped in and flipped on the light switch.

She stood in a large room, the ceiling extending up to the second story, though she could see a small span of railing that was open, giving her a glimpse of the upstairs floor. The wood floors were scuffed, but clean. A massive, rock fireplace dominated the right wall, sandwiched in between two windows that looked out into the forest. The furniture was big and sturdy, but looked comfy and well-worn, an old quilt draped over the couch.

There were knick-knacks and art all over the place - all of them some sort of sea or wolf motif, which was a strange combination. Maybe her grandmother had been a big supporter of local artisans.

Curious, Nadia continued further into the house, flipping on lights and looking into the large kitchen that looked like too much for just one person. In fact, it looked like the cabin had been built to accommodate a growing family - not a lonely old woman.

Stepping out of the kitchen, Nadia looked over and saw an opened door to a bedroom, deciding she’d stay there tonight. She was too tired to venture upstairs, though the part of her that grew up in all manner of unsafe areas warned that she should check the entire house before she settled in for the night. Looking up, Nadia waited quietly, but all she could hear was the ocean and the breeze whispering through the trees.

The rest of the house could wait until daylight. Right now, all Nadia wanted to do was to bring her stuff inside and collapse in the large bed in the bedroom she saw just off the living room.

To forget about everything she had left behind. Boston was hundreds of miles away right now, as were her troubles.

At least for the time being.

Sleep was calling her name and everything else could wait.

So, sighing yet again, Nadia trekked back out to her car to retrieve her things, lugging them into the house over a few trips and depositing them in the large bedroom. After locking up, she paused in the bedroom and stared down at her suitcases and boxes, debating whether or not she wanted to take a shower.

Exhaustion won. Nadia quickly pulled off her clothes and dug out a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and the charger for her phone. Her brain switched to autopilot as she changed and set her phone up on the nightstand before turning off the lights and crawling into the bed.

Her eyes had barely closed before sleep took her, not a hint of ghosts to be found.

Nadia was greeted by the sound of chirping birds the next morning, along with the even beat of the waves against the beach.

Groaning, she rolled over, her eyes falling on the large window to the right, light filtering in through the breezy curtains. She sat up and stretched, her eyes roaming around the room, finally taking in the homey details she had missed the night before in her exhausted haze.

Just before her was a door that led to the ensuite, while a chest sat at the end of the bed. To the left of the door was a dresser, a couple framed photos on top along with a jewelry box. Tossing the quilt and sheets off, Nadia got out of the large bed and walked over, studying them.

One was black and white on the steps of what appeared to be a church - the focus on a young woman in a simple white dress, beaming up at a large man at her side in a simple suit, who was beaming just as much down at her. The man dwarfed her, even though the woman was fairly tall in her own right. Her light blonde hair was down in wild waves around her shoulders, in stark contrast to the smooth updos of the women in the crowd around them.

The next photo was the same couple, smiling lovingly down at a baby in the woman’s arms.

Stepping back, Nadia took in the photos on the wall, all of them depicting the same man, woman, and child, though they aged. She knew these were her grandparents and mother, but it felt like she was looking at strangers. And she wondered just why her mother had never mentioned her grandfather.

While Mara hadn’t mentioned much about her mother or Fisher’s Bay, Nadia had always assumed there was some big falling out. That her grandmother had been overbearing or controlling. From the look of these photos, it appeared as though her mother had grown up very much loved, which only confused Nadia more.

Turning away from them, she chalked it up to one more lie her mother had sold her, though this time through omission.

I swear, as soon as I get paid in a couple days, I’ll get us all the food you want…

We’ll go to the mall for your birthday next year, I promise…

Just one more move. This is it…

Everything is gonna get better, baby girl, I swear…

Sniffing, Nadia padded out of the room to the kitchen, wondering if there was any coffee. She assumed since someone had obviously been to the house to clean, they had probably also cleared out any food or perishables. At least she hoped so. The last thing she wanted to do today was spend hours cleaning out a rancid fridge before going to the store to stock up.

Stopping in the open kitchen, she took in the large island and table, light pouring in through the windows though it was overcast outside. For a moment, her heart ached for the grandmother she never knew, imagining her here alone in this large house that was clearly meant to be filled with people.

The kitchen looked well-used and well-loved. And thankfully, Nadia spotted a fairly new-looking coffee pot on the counter next to a bag of coffee grounds and a box of filters. Smiling, she walked over, seeing a handwritten note.

Welcome to Fisher’s Bay, Nadia!

Wasn’t sure if you were a coffee drinker, so there’s also tea in the cabinet. Either way, I figured if you were anything like me, you’d want a pick-me-up in the morning. I also put a few things in the fridge to hold you over until you can get to the store in town.

Call if you need anything or just want help. I live down the road and have been looking after the place until you arrived. I can give you the spare key back if you want. Also, wasn’t sure if you drank red or white, so there’s both on the wine rack.

And definitely call if you need a drinking buddy!

Chloe Kingfisher

Nadia snorted to herself, completely not expecting such a welcome to the area. She had no idea who this Chloe was - having only dealt with her grandmother’s lawyer, Mr. Nichols - but felt like she might like her if the note was anything to go by.

Anyone who left her coffee and wine seemed like good people in her book.

She made a mental note to save the number scrawled at the bottom of the note and maybe give Chloe a call after she showered. At the very least to thank her. Mr. Nichols had sent her a map of the area, marking out places she would need to know. Even without it, Nadia wasn’t too worried. It was a small town - just how lost could she get trying to find the one grocery store?

Putting the letter down, she made coffee, leaning against the counter as it brewed. Her thoughts went to the second floor, wondering what was upstairs. She assumed more bedrooms full of things she would need to go through as she decided what to do - stay or go back to Boston. She then thought about what she should do that day outside of meeting with Mr. Nichols.

Nadia had no job. Knew no one in town. She wasn’t even completely sure what possessed her to pack up everything she had and drive across the country to her grandmother’s house.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. Nadia knew she was running.

“Like mother, like daughter,” she mumbled.

The notice of her grandmother’s death and the fact she had left everything to Nadia was a much-welcomed out to the mess she had made for herself back in Boston. A place to hide out while she figured out what to do with her life.

She’d never write at another media outlet again, so an unwanted career change it was.

Swallowing bile that threatened to rise up, Nadia turned and poured herself a cup of coffee once it finished brewing. While taking a sip, she spotted a doorway and walked over, curious what it led to. She walked through, seeing an older washer and dryer and open pantry, the shelves empty. Another door sat at the end and through the window, Nadia could make out the ocean through the trees.

Her steps quickening, she reached it and unlocked the door before stepping out onto a large back porch that spanned the entire back of the house. She closed her eyes and breathed in the salty sea air, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks.

When she opened her eyes, her breath was nearly stolen by the view. The trees opened up to a large beach, the gray ocean waves lazily breaking onto the sand. How her mother could hate such a place, Nadia didn’t know. God, she would have killed to spend her childhood here instead of the dingy, rat-infested apartments she had grown up in.

“What the hell were you thinking,” she murmured, her thoughts turning to her mother.

She hadn’t heard from Mara in months, which wasn’t unusual. Her mother moved with the wind, bouncing from city to city and state to state in such a rapid fashion that Nadia had long ago stopped trying to keep track of her. Part of her wondered if her mother made it hard for even her own daughter to track her on purpose.

Mara had, after all, left her with their kind, elderly neighbor Mrs. Rogers the summer before her freshman year, all too eager to be rid of Nadia. She had welcomed it, finally getting a taste of stability her life had lacked up to that point. The old woman had helped her graduate high school and then get into and through college. Nadia had been gutted when Mrs. Rogers passed away shortly after she had graduated university.

But that was in the past. Perhaps her mother was right about one thing - the past was best forgotten. Because Nadia was eager to move on from her most recent past, even though she knew she had left far too many loose ends in Boston with her impulsive move.

She may or may not have a place to live waiting for her - Lara, her roommate, had promised to hold her room for a few months while Nadia figured out her grandmother’s affairs. She may or may not still have a boyfriend, telling Trevor she didn’t know how long she’d be gone, but hadn’t met up with him before she jumped in her car and took off.

She had barely spoken to him the trip over, only sending messages to let him know she was alive and making her way across the U.S.

The only things Nadia did know was that she definitely no longer had a career.

Wincing, Nadia shook her head. She didn’t want to think about that right now.

“This is a fresh start,” she said to herself.

Or, at least she hoped so.

Author’s Note:

Hey folks! When I first finished this story, I mentioned going through and changing out edited chapters. As I’ve decided to go back through the whole thing from start to finish and give it a good, thorough editing, I figured the best thing to do was to take down the whole book and re-upload it chapter-by-chapter.

I’m not completely sure just how much will change. Some spots will have minor editing. Other spots will have some major changes. I spent a lot of time fleshing out all my background information on the characters, the universe, and future books, so I want to reflect that in this one before I move on to the rest of the series.

So, yea. That’s what’s going on. I’ve currently got up to Chapter 9 edited. I’m planning to post two chapters at a time, once a week. I’m not 100% sure how quickly I’ll get through the edits/rewrites. I figure doing posts once a week for the time being will keep me ahead of my work so chapters can go up regularly and there’s not a lot of lag time.

And once I get this cleaned up, I’m going to really dive into Book 2. I do have the first three chapters written, but I may end up reworking that with all the new research, plotting, and fleshing out that I’ve done. Sorry it’s taking so long! You can thank my months long writer’s block that is still digging its nails into my brain, but I’m trying to work through it...

Anywho, hope you enjoy!