The missing-person fliers litter the ground, even now.
Chloe spent months putting them up. It might be a small town, but she wanted to make sure that everyone in Arcadia Bay saw them. She did her best to cover every inch of the area, from street posts to the walls of the dinner, even going so far as to sneak back into a school that she loathed with every fiber of her being on the off chance one of the students would see them and know where she went.
For six months she did this, and it was all in vain.
Max tried to comfort her. She did her best, and yeah, maybe she helped. Chloe didn't think she could have kept going without her. But as much as she was glad that her long lost friend finally returned to her, it wasn't enough.
Though Max could offer company, she couldn't offer understanding. That's what happens when you fuck off into the middle of nowhere for years at a time, you miss things. You miss things that are important, and no amount of explaining in the world can make up for it.
In the forest surrounding Arcadia Bay, there is a patch of death.
That patch is several miles long. The bright green trees just end, and all that can be seen is ash and decay. Dry, gnarled branches that no longer bear leaves, the life having been burned away from them. The remains of a forest fire.
She remembers it well.
Screams cut into the air as the spark bit into the vulnerable wood, catching it and holding tight. Flames that spread, crackling, spurred on by the hurt, the rage of betrayal, eating away at all that they touched until they lit the night sky in a pyre that defied all logic or reason.
That fire burned for days, burned and spread, cursing everything that crossed their path.
It was beautiful.
Her father came to her and told her not to trust those flames. He said that though they might chase away the grief that came from losing him, they would burn her if she wasn't careful. She supposes this, here, was what he meant. This was so much more than what she felt the day he died. In his absence she felt empty, but in her absence...
There's something else there entirely.
A fire doesn't just die. It goes out slowly. It lingers as it burns down, it forms tiny embers that glow and wait, holding onto the chance that they might be able to spread anew. What was left in Chloe's heart was a pile of embers, buried under a layer of dirt and ash. The sight of the body before her sent through a chilled wind, one that hit her core, one that blew the ash away.
And now, after the void of grief, comes something new.
Like the fire she saw that day, started only by the remains of a burnt picture, Chloe can feel those embers within her catch and grow. A part of her lost love remained, small as it was. She could see it in the dead forest, in the maze of charred bark and dead wood. She could feel it in herself, a blaze that climbed up inside of her, overtaking everything else.
She knows who killed Rachel Amber.
She knows who snuffed out her flame.
And even if it's the last thing she does, even if it leaves her burnt down into nothing, she will destroy him.