The car door shuts with a tired click. Eli stands at the edge of Auden’s Ridge, staring at the fog-draped trees beyond the town’s faded welcome sign.
He lifts a voice recorder to his mouth, thumb trembling. Eli Wynn. Day one. This place smells like pine and nostalgia. I’m here to find out what happened to Minseo Park...my friend, my co-host, my…
He exhales sharply.
…my... unfinished sentence. Click.
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