The smell of coffee filled the old farmhouse.
Black coffee. Very black.
“You’re telling me there’s no French vanilla cream?” Lily asked, squinting into her mug.
Knox rolled his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? There is no cream at all. You either drink it black or you put goat milk in it.”
“Goat milk? Black? I’m not drinking anything,” Lily grumbled.
“Lily, stop complaining,” their mom said. “Go brush your hair. Knox, are you ready?”
“Yes. I’ve got my blazer over here with my shoes.”
Avery chimed in, “Me too. Well—I don’t have a blazer, but I’m ready.”
Dad came out wearing a suit. They hadn’t seen him in one since he lost his job.
“Looking sharp,” Avery teased.
Mom smiled. Kyle almost smiled too, though he looked weighed down by the day.
Everyone was in black, even Grandma. She spoke up: “All right, we’re going to Presbyterian Cemetery. It’s a smaller one, just outside of Clearwater. We’re just doing a graveside. Everything will be there—Pastor Tim will have it ready.”
“Avery wants to ride with me,” Grandma added. “I don’t wanna be alone in the truck.”
“That sounds great,” Mom said.
⸻
Grandma had dusted off Grandpa’s old Ford. Bright blue, with bench seats that were tattered but comfy. The drizzle had begun, soft and misty, a perfect day for a funeral.
“Grandma,” Avery spoke up from the passenger side, “I didn’t really know Grandpa very much. And Dad… well, you know. Can I ask you something?”
“Speak your mind.”
“I saw some of those news clippings that said Grandpa was in an accident—that he caused the quarry to shut down. I know that gave Dad a lot of problems when he was a kid. But… do you think it was really an accident?”
Grandma’s jaw tightened. She took a deep breath. “Avery dear, I’ve been quiet about this for a long time. But I’m sick of being quiet. Your granddad was the best man I’ve ever met. He rescued me from a dark place, brought me here, gave me a life I never could have imagined. He promised to protect me, no matter what.
“For years we weren’t able to have babies, then your dad came along. He was our only one by blood. After he was grown and leaving for college, we decided to adopt your uncle. And your grandpa loved him like his own flesh and blood. He built this house with his own hands. He worked years carving limestone out of the ground. He was always careful, always caring, always loving.
“Anyone can make a mistake. But what happened in that quarry was no accident. And your grandpa—he was no normal man. He was the best of men. I need you to know that.”
Avery swallowed hard and turned her face back to the misty window.
⸻
A small crowd of maybe twelve or fifteen gathered under a little tent at the cemetery. The rain was light but steady. Kyle spoke a few short words about his father, about the time he tried to ride a horse. It made Grandma smile, even laugh softly, and that was enough.
Reverend Wilhelm spoke about death, life, resurrection, and the hope we have in Christ. His words sounded a lot like the pastor from back home, but rougher, more country.
Avery noticed a woman hanging back, standing apart from the group, yet listening intently. She wore a jacket with “SECURITY” stitched across the back.
“Grandma,” Avery whispered, “who’s that?”
“That’s your Uncle Bert’s ex-girlfriend. Ashley. Folks just called her Tilly.”
“What does she do?”
“Well, she works security at the old quarry. Every once in a while she stops by.”
Avery’s eyes widened. “Wait—that’s her? That’s Tilly123.”
The reverend said, “Let us pray.” Avery turned quickly and whispered to Knox, “That’s her. That’s Tilly123. She knows what’s going on.”
“What?” Knox muttered.
Tilly’s eyes met Avery’s. They both knew. Tilly dipped her head slightly, then turned and climbed into her old truck.
⸻
The family drove back toward town for the reception. The basement of the old Lutheran church smelled of fried chicken and coffee. Red, maybe maroon, carpet covered the floor. Old pews lined the wall, while folding tables sagged under the weight of macaroni, mashed potatoes, chicken, and jiggling bowls of Jell-O with fruit inside.
Kyle sat across from Reverend Wilhelm at one of the folding tables.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you,” the minister said. “This must be your boy.”
Knox sat up straighter. “Hello. My name is Knox.”
“Nice to meet you, Knox. I remember your dad, about your size, sitting down here after services.” He turned back to Kyle. “Your mother tells me you’re living in Richmond. Where do you attend church out there?”
Kyle shifted in his chair. “Well, to be honest, I haven’t been in a long time. Life just… got really busy.”
Reverend Wilhelm nodded slowly. “I see. Well, I’m glad you said some good things about your dad today. I know you two didn’t always see eye to eye.”
Kyle lowered his eyes. “Thank you. I did it for my mom.”
At the next table, Avery stabbed into a bowl of Jell-O with determination. “Lily,” she whispered, “Uncle Bert’s ex-girlfriend is security at the quarry. You know, all those weird things that happen out there. I bet that’s where he got all those pictures from on his computer.”
“Why are you so concerned about this?” Lily asked, slurping down a cherry. “And you have to try this Jell-O—it’s got real cherries in it.”
“There’s not much else to do,” Avery pressed. “And there’s a real mystery. Don’t you wanna know what this is all about?”
Lily licked her lips, stood up, and declared, “I’m getting more Jell-O.”
⸻
On the way back to Grandma’s, Knox leaned forward from the back seat. “Dad, Grandma goes to church, and you went to church as a kid. Why don’t we ever go to church?”
Kyle’s jaw tightened. “Son, I don’t want to have this talk right now.”
His mother broke the silence. “Sweetheart, we think it’s good that your grandma believes what she believes, and we’d never disrespect her. But… we just don’t believe the same things.”
Knox frowned. “Then what do we believe?”
Kyle sighed. “Son, there’s no reason for me to lie to you. I want you to trust me. Your grandpa was a churchgoer, but you’d never have known it by the choices he made. And I always struggled to reconcile the hypocrites I saw in the church. So I decided I didn’t want to be one of them.”
Knox sat back in silence, staring out the window. The sun was low, bleeding out over the fields.
“What is that?” he asked suddenly.
Out in the pasture, what first looked like a herd of cattle came into view. As they drew closer, it was clear—hundreds of deer. But not just deer. Every single one was a stag, antlers branching wide. They stood in rows, almost like soldiers.
As the car rolled past, every head turned in unison, following them with cold, unblinking eyes.
“That,” Ally said softly, “is a lot of deer.”
⸻
Later that night, the family gathered in the living room. Kyle cleared his throat.
“Children, your mother and I need to leave early tomorrow. We’re going back to Richmond to pack up a moving truck.”
“What about our house?” Avery interrupted.
“We have to sell it,” Kyle said flatly. “I’ve lost my job. Your mom and I will be staying in Richmond to get the house ready. It’s a lot of work. Your grandma has agreed that you kids can stay here with her for the next six weeks.”
Knox stiffened. “But I want to be with you.”
“Son, I understand. But I need you here to look after your sisters and help your grandma. Six weeks will fly by.”
Kyle’s words landed heavy. Knox’s eyes burned, but he said nothing.
Grandma noticed. She clapped her hands gently. “Well, children, let’s have some cheesecake. Then brush your teeth and get to bed. Tomorrow we have church.”
⸻
The cheesecake went back in the fridge. Hours later, the grandfather clock ticked steadily in the quiet house.
Avery slipped from her room and padded down the hall to Knox’s. She cracked the door. He was awake.
“What do you want?” he whispered.
“I wanna get on the computer.”
“It’s not my computer.”
“Fine... the computer.”
Knox narrowed his eyes. “For what?”
Avery’s voice dropped low. “If we’re gonna be here the rest of the summer, I’m gonna solve this mystery.”
“What mystery?”
“All of it. Grandpa. The quarry. And I wanna know who this stag-looking guy is.”
“You mean that guy?” Knox asked, sitting up.
Avery had double-clicked on an image file. The figure on the screen—half-shadow, antlers reaching upward—immediately brought back the sight of the deer in the field.
Knox clenched his jaw. His anger from earlier focused into something sharper. “All right, Avery. I’m in. If we have to be here without Mom and Dad, we might as well figure out what really happened.”
“You’re not joking?” Avery whispered.
“I’m not joking.”
“Pinky swear?”
He held out his pinky. They locked fingers.
“Oh man, this is gonna be so fun.”
Knox rolled his eyes. “All right. Now go to bed.”
But neither of them slept easily that night.
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