Whispers of Yesterday

By Gracelynne MacAllister

Returning to the place she's avoided for years, Rose Callahan never expected the haunting memories to pull her in deeper than she ever imagined. With every step she takes toward discovering the truth behind her sister's disappearance, the past grows more elusive—and the present, more dangerous. As whispers of yesterday echo in her heart, Rose must face the one thing she fears most: the truth.
For fans of gripping mysteries and emotional thrillers, Whispers of Yesterday will pull you into a world where the past is never quite finished, and the answers you seek might not be the ones you want to find.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trilogy Ink
• Release date: Dec 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9798230751076

Book preview

Chapter 1: The Return

The road stretched before her, long and narrow, flanked by rows of trees whose branches seemed to bow over the pavement like guardians of a forgotten past. The sky was a dull amber, the sun sinking slowly into the horizon, casting a golden hue across the landscape. The late afternoon light glimmered through the windshield, bathing Rose Callahan in a bittersweet glow. The weight of the moment pressed against her chest, making it harder to breathe, but she kept driving, her fingers tightening around the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.

The air smelled of rain, though it hadn't rained for hours, and the scent of damp earth mixed with the sharp tang of pine needles through the half-open window. Rose barely noticed. Her mind was too busy playing tricks on her, throwing images of the past into her vision as if they were real—fleeting memories that disappeared just as quickly as they came. She could almost hear the laughter, feel the breeze as it rustled her hair, the faint swing of her feet against the ground as she pushed higher and higher into the sky on the old wooden swing beneath the oak tree. The same swing where her sister Lila had been last seen, all those years ago.

A sigh escaped Rose's lips as she slowed the car to a stop at the crest of the hill. Her old hometown spread out below her, looking almost exactly the way it had when she'd left. The main street, lined with small shops, was quiet, and in the distance, the steeple of the town church stood as a lone sentinel. Time had not been kind to this place. Or perhaps, it was the other way around. The place had been unkind to time, staying frozen in a moment Rose could never quite escape, no matter how hard she tried.

For years, she had avoided this town. She had stayed away, choosing the chaos of the city, the anonymity of crowds, the constant buzz of a life that never had time for reflection. It was easier that way, not to think about what happened. Not to wonder what could have been. But now, after nearly a decade, she had returned, and it felt like the town itself was holding its breath, waiting for her to make her move. A part of her wished she had never come back.

The thought of turning around, of abandoning this mission, flickered in her mind like a candle's flame struggling against the wind. But it was too late. She had come this far, and there was no point in running away now.

Taking a deep breath, Rose eased her foot off the brake and rolled forward down the hill, the car's engine humming softly. As she descended into the heart of the town, the familiar sights flooded her senses—the old diner where she and Lila used to beg for milkshakes after school, the bookstore that still had the same faded sign in the window, and the grocery store, now with peeling paint, standing just as it had in her childhood, stubbornly clinging to existence.

She passed the elementary school, the chain-link fence rusted but still standing. The playground beyond it was empty, the swings swaying gently in the evening breeze as if beckoning her to come closer. Her chest tightened at the sight of the swings, the memory of Lila on that last day playing out vividly in her mind. Lila had always loved that swing set, always pushing herself higher than any of the other kids dared. It had been the same with the swing beneath the oak tree.

Rose forced herself to look away, her pulse quickening as she gripped the steering wheel harder, her fingers trembling now. She didn’t want to see any more of the town’s ghosts.

The house came into view a few minutes later, looming at the end of the long, gravel driveway, set back from the road and partially obscured by the wild tangle of trees and shrubs that had grown up around it over the years. Her parents had sold the place after Lila’s disappearance, unable to bear the memories that lingered within its walls. Rose had always wondered how they managed to keep it together at all. She hadn’t. She had run, and in running, she’d lost herself somewhere along the way.

Rose parked the car and turned off the engine, the sudden silence heavy and suffocating. She sat for a moment, staring at the house. The roof sagged slightly, and the windows were clouded with grime, but otherwise, it looked unchanged. The swing still hung from the oak tree out front, its ropes frayed but intact. It swayed gently in the evening breeze, creaking softly, as if waiting for her.

For a moment, she thought she saw a figure standing by the swing—Lila, with her long hair flowing in the wind, her smile bright and carefree. But when Rose blinked, the image was gone, and the swing was empty.

Get it together, Rose, she muttered to herself, shaking her head. She couldn't afford to fall apart now.

She opened the car door and stepped out, the gravel crunching under her boots as she made her way up the driveway. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves overhead, and for a brief moment, it felt like the trees were whispering to her, their voices carrying secrets she wasn’t ready to hear. The air was cooler now, with a faint hint of the coming night, and Rose hugged her jacket closer around her, the fabric rough against her skin.

The front door loomed before her, the faded wood cracked and peeling, but still solid. Rose hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob. It was as if once she crossed the threshold, there would be no turning back. No escaping the memories that had haunted her for so long.

With a deep breath, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. The hinges groaned in protest, and the scent of must and old wood washed over her as she stepped inside. The interior of the house was dim, the evening light filtering through the dirty windows in thin, golden beams that illuminated motes of dust swirling lazily in the air. The furniture was still covered in white sheets, like ghosts of the life that had once been here, and the silence was thick, pressing in on her from all sides.

Rose stood in the entryway, her heart pounding in her chest as she took it all in. It was like stepping into a time capsule, everything frozen in place from the day her family had left. Her eyes wandered over the old pictures hanging on the walls, the framed photographs of her and Lila, their parents, all smiling and happy. A family that had been whole, before everything fell apart.

She walked through the living room, the floorboards creaking under her feet, and made her way to the back of the house. The kitchen was just as she remembered it—the chipped counters, the outdated appliances, the same wooden table where they had shared countless meals. The only thing missing was the sound of laughter, the warmth of her mother bustling around the kitchen, or Lila sitting at the table, chattering about her day.

The silence was unbearable.

Rose turned and left the kitchen, making her way upstairs. Each step she took felt heavier than the last, as if the house itself was trying to pull her back, to keep her from reaching the second floor. But she pushed on, her heart in her throat as she reached the landing.

There, at the end of the hallway, was Lila's room.

The door was slightly ajar, just as it had been the day Lila disappeared. Rose hesitated, her hand trembling as she reached for the doorknob. She hadn’t been in this room in over a decade, hadn’t allowed herself to even think about it for years. But now, standing on the threshold, the memories came rushing back all at once—the laughter, the arguments, the whispered secrets shared in the dark.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.

The room was untouched. Everything was exactly as it had been left. The bed was neatly made, the soft pink comforter smoothed out perfectly. Lila's stuffed animals still lined the shelves, their glassy eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The wallpaper, a faded floral pattern, peeled at the edges, and the soft scent of lavender still lingered faintly in the air, just as it had when Lila was alive.

A lump formed in Rose's throat as she stepped into the room, her eyes scanning every detail. It was as if Lila could walk through the door at any moment, as if she had just stepped out for a moment and would return soon. But Rose knew better. Lila was gone. And no amount of wishing would bring her back.

Rose crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, her hands resting in her lap. She closed her eyes, letting the weight of the moment settle over her. The room felt heavy with the past, the echoes of a life that had been ripped away too soon. She had always blamed herself for what happened. If only she had been more vigilant, if only she had been with Lila that day, maybe things would have been different. Maybe Lila would still be here.

But the past was unchangeable, and the present offered no answers. Only more questions.

A sound from outside broke through the silence—a faint creak, like the swing outside being pushed by the wind. Rose's eyes flew open, her heart pounding in her chest. She stood up, crossing to the window, and looked out.

There, beneath the oak tree, the swing was moving again, swaying gently in the breeze. But this time, it wasn’t empty.

A figure sat on the swing, its head bowed, hair falling in long waves down its back. For a moment, Rose's breath caught in her throat. It looked just like Lila. The same delicate frame, the same dark hair.

But it couldn't be. Lila was gone.

She blinked, and when her eyes refocused, the figure was gone.

Rose stepped back from the window, her heart racing. She could feel the cold sweat forming on the back of her neck, the familiar sense of unease creeping up her spine. This town was playing tricks on her, dredging up old memories she had buried for a reason. But there was no escaping them now. Not anymore.

Turning away from the window, she walked toward the door. She needed to get out of the house, needed to breathe fresh air, to clear her mind. The past was too heavy here, too suffocating.

But as she stepped out into the hallway, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone.

Chapter 2: Echoes in the Dark

The evening air was cool as Rose stepped out onto the front porch, the creak of the weathered wooden boards echoing under her feet. The light was fading fast, the last rays of sunlight slipping behind the distant hills, leaving the town bathed in the soft, blue shadows of twilight. She had always loved this time of day—the way the world seemed to hold its breath, teetering on the edge of night, full of potential and mystery.

But tonight, the twilight felt different. Unsettling. Like a darkness she couldn’t escape was creeping in, even as the stars began to appear one by one in the sky above her. Rose wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the sudden chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.

The swing beneath the oak tree swayed gently in the breeze, its movement almost hypnotic. Her eyes were drawn to it as if it held some secret she wasn’t quite ready to confront. But Rose knew she had to. She had come back for a reason, after all. She couldn’t hide from the past any longer.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped off the porch and walked slowly toward the tree. Each step felt deliberate, the crunch of gravel beneath her boots grounding her in the present, even as her mind swirled with memories of the past. The air smelled of damp earth and leaves, a scent that transported her back to long summer days spent playing beneath this very tree with Lila, their laughter filling the air as they chased each other through the grass.

But those days were long gone, replaced by the shadow of her sister’s disappearance and the questions that had haunted Rose ever since. What had happened to Lila that day? Where had she gone? And why had no one been able to find her?

Rose stopped in front of the swing, staring at it for a long moment. The wooden seat was worn and weathered, the ropes frayed but still strong. It looked the same as it had when she and Lila had played on it all those years ago. But something about it felt different now. Darker. As if it held the weight of everything that had been lost.

She reached out, her fingers brushing the rough wood of the seat. The swing moved slightly under her touch, swaying gently in the breeze. A lump formed in her throat, and for a moment, Rose felt like a little girl again, desperate for answers she knew she might never get.

You came back.

The voice startled her, and Rose spun around, her heart leaping into her throat. Standing at the edge of the yard, partially obscured by the shadows of the trees, was a figure. A man.

He stepped forward into the fading light, and recognition washed over her like a cold wave.

Sam? she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Samuel Tucker had been her neighbor growing up. He and Lila had been close, almost inseparable, especially in those last few years before Lila disappeared. Rose hadn’t seen him since she left town, but here he was, standing in front of her, looking almost exactly the same as she remembered.

His dark hair was longer now, brushing the collar of his worn jacket, and there were lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there before, but otherwise, he hadn’t changed much. His eyes were still the same deep brown, intense and unreadable as they studied her.

I didn’t think you’d ever come back, he said, his voice low, almost cautious.

Rose swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. I didn’t plan to.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. For a moment, they stood in silence, the weight of the years between them hanging heavy in the air. The last time Rose had seen Sam had been at Lila’s memorial service. He hadn’t said much to her then, and she had been too wrapped up in her own grief to notice if he had been hurting too. Now, looking at him, she realized just how much they had all been affected by Lila’s disappearance.

Why now? Sam asked, breaking the silence.

Rose hesitated, unsure how to explain the gnawing feeling that had driven her back here after all these years. How could she put into words the pull she had felt, the way the memories of that day had refused to leave her alone? It wasn’t just guilt or grief. It was something deeper, something she couldn’t quite name.

I need answers, she finally said, her voice steady, though her heart was racing. I need to know what happened to her.

Sam’s expression didn’t change, but Rose saw the flicker of something in his eyes—something like sadness, or maybe it was regret.

People around here stopped asking a long time ago, he said softly.

I didn’t, Rose replied, her voice firm. I can’t.

Sam looked away, his gaze drifting toward the swing behind her. For a long moment, he didn’t speak, and Rose could see the tension in his posture, the way his jaw tightened as if he was holding something back.

You think you’ll find something? he asked, his voice low.

Rose didn’t answer right away. The truth was, she didn’t know. She had no idea if there was anything left to find after all this time. But she had to try. She owed it to Lila, and to herself.

I have to try, she said finally.

Sam nodded, but the look in his eyes told her he didn’t believe she would find anything. Be careful, Rose. Not everyone around here wants to dig up the past.

The warning in his voice was clear, but before Rose could respond, Sam turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the trees as quickly as he had appeared. She watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind spinning with a thousand questions.

What had he meant by that? Was there something he wasn’t telling her?

Rose turned back toward the house, her mind racing. She had come here looking for answers, but now it seemed like there were even more questions. What had Sam meant when he said not everyone wanted to dig up the past? And why had he seemed so reluctant to talk about Lila?

The house loomed before her, dark and silent, and suddenly, the thought of going back inside filled her with dread. She didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts, didn’t want to face the memories that seemed to be waiting for her in every corner of the old house.

But where else could she go? The town felt foreign to her now, its streets and buildings unfamiliar in the twilight. The few people she had known growing up were either gone or had moved on with their lives. The sense of isolation pressed down on her, making it harder to breathe.

She walked back up the porch steps, each one creaking under her weight. The wind had picked up, rustling the branches of the trees, making them whisper secrets she couldn’t quite hear. Her skin prickled with a sense of unease, but she forced herself to push open the door and step inside.

The house felt colder now, the darkness settling in around her like a thick fog. Rose closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She needed to get a grip, to stop letting the past overwhelm her.

But how could she, when the past was the reason she was here?

She walked slowly through the house, her footsteps echoing in the silence. The furniture, still covered in sheets, looked like ghostly figures watching her from the shadows. She could almost hear the laughter of her family, the sounds of life that had once filled these rooms. But now, there was only silence.

Rose made her way upstairs again, her eyes drawn once more to the door at the end of the hallway—Lila’s room. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stood in front of it, her hand hovering over the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could go in there again, not after everything she had felt earlier. But something pulled her forward, something she couldn’t explain.

She pushed open the door.

The room was exactly as she had left it, untouched and frozen in time. But this time, something felt different. The air was heavy, almost oppressive, and