Chapter 2

Eleanor watched the cheap brass doorknob rattle violently. Someone was trying to force the lock from the outside. She took a deep breath. She planted her worn sneakers firmly against the cracked linoleum floor, bracing her weight. Rory shifted in the shadows behind her. "The bathroom window," his voice was a low, raspy whisper. "Go." Eleanor shook her head without looking back. She refused to run like a coward. "Running proves we are guilty," she stated firmly, her voice steady despite the rapid pounding in her chest. Rory fell silent. His heavy, ragged breathing filled the small space. He was evaluating her stubborn resilience. A loud thud echoed through the tiny trailer. Someone kicked the flimsy wooden door from the outside. The doorframe splinters cracked. The door slammed open, rebounding violently against the interior wall. The harsh, blinding glare of three heavy-duty flashlights pierced the darkness, hitting Eleanor right in the face. Tiffany Tucker burst into the room. She held a bulky Polaroid camera high, her finger resting on the flash button. Crystal and Amber, Tiffany's loyal clique, crowded into the narrow doorway right behind her, smirking maliciously. Tiffany faked a loud, dramatic gasp. She covered her mouth with her free hand in an exaggerated display of mock horror. "Eleanor!" Tiffany cried out, her voice shrill. "How could you do something so shameful in a disgusting place like this?" Crystal chimed in immediately, her voice loud enough for the people outside to hear. "You are a disgrace to the community boarding house!" Amber swung her flashlight away from Eleanor. She aimed the beam directly at the bed, trying to find Rory's naked body. Eleanor raised her arm to block the blinding light. Her expression turned to pure, unyielding ice. She reached out and grabbed a heavy ceramic coffee mug from the grimy counter next to her. Eleanor smashed the mug straight down onto the floor, right at Tiffany's feet. The thick ceramic shattered with a loud, violent crack. Sharp shards exploded outward. The three girls shrieked. They jumped back, their cheap sandals scraping against the porch boards. Eleanor stepped forward, her sneakers crunching over the broken ceramic. She established a hard, physical boundary. "Why did you bring a camera to a rescue mission, Tiffany?" Eleanor asked coldly, her voice cutting through the ringing silence. Tiffany stammers. Her fake concern slipped instantly. She frantically tried to hide the bulky Polaroid behind her back. Eleanor took another aggressive step forward. She forced Tiffany to back up against the splintered doorframe. "You handed me that drink earlier tonight," Eleanor pointed out loudly, making sure her voice carried to the porch. Crystal and Amber exchanged nervous, confused glances. They looked at Tiffany, clearly unaware of the full extent of the setup. Tiffany's face flushed dark red. Panic and anger warred in her wide eyes at being exposed so quickly. Tiffany lunged forward. She reached out with her manicured hands, attempting to grab Eleanor by the hair to drag her outside into the dirt. Eleanor anticipated the sloppy move. She dodged to the side with surprising agility, her body moving on pure adrenaline. She planted her hands on Tiffany's chest and shoved hard. Tiffany stumbled backward, her shoulder slamming painfully into the wooden doorframe. Eleanor glared down the clique. Her chest heaved. The noise of the shattering mug and the yelling had drawn the rest of the townspeople out of the dark and onto the porch.