Prologue:
A pair of size ten, all-black Chuck Taylor hightops laid, abandoned, just outside Teiko's school gym, for almost three years.
Everyone knew who's shoes those were, but no one moved them, ever. They stayed exactly as they had been when they had first been taken of their owner's feet, as if someone was going to run over and put them on at any second.
No one would.
No one dared to move those shoes. The person who had once worn them was far too precious, and far too gone, to erase from Teiko. Those shoes were a memorial of sorts, a tribute to a long-gone teenager who would never grow up.
Never.
And The Generation of Miracles were the only people who knew what truly happened that faithful summer night, the night when a girl had run off and left her hightops behind.
The next morning, she was found, dead in ditch. No explanations, no suspects, no answers.
The Generation of Miracles knew the truth. And they weren't talking.