Her breath caught. She tapped the image. Scattered across dry grass were large, striking feathers—white and brown, clear as day. Her chest tightened. The orchard was on the far edge of town. She turned to Alex, eyes wide, voice shaking with urgency. “This might be something,” she whispered. “A real lead.”
Without waiting, her and Alex made their way swiftly towards the apple orchard. They crossed open fields, pushing toward the orchard. Though the mist had eased, a heavy silence pressed around them. It felt like even the air was holding its breath, waiting for what came next.