Chapter One - Ballast / Page 2 of 6
Mercer Street
The road into town narrows through old houses, wet pavement, dim windows, and careful silence.
Mercer Street did not announce itself.
It came in pieces: porch lights under low eaves, gutters breathing rainwater into cracked walks, a blue truck with one tire low, curtains that did not move when he passed.
Elias drove slowly, watching the house numbers appear and disappear behind maple branches. The town looked ordinary in the way old places do when they have learned to keep their mouths shut.
His clipboard sat on the passenger seat. Blank report. Charged phone. Flashlight. Moisture meter. The tools made the work feel manageable, which was what tools were for.
The town looked ordinary in the way old places do when they have learned to keep their mouths shut.
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