The ride out to the Biers house felt like forever. The beach town slowly disappeared into that of a town far more rural and slightly deserted.

The road Esme and Rosalie drove on was straight and long with houses every few hundred feet or so, sometimes farther away and lots of farm land and woods.

"I wish I had my GPS," Esme said, glancing over as Rosalie read off of a piece of paper.

"Oh, wait!" she called out, looking over her shoulder. "I think that was it... back there."

Esme glanced in the rearview mirror and saw no cars coming in either direction. She decided it would be easiest just to back the car up rather than turn around. She immediately saw the start of a long dirt driveway and the name Biers was printed on the black mailbox that sat at the end of it.

"I guess we're here," she said, slowly driving her car partway down the driveway.

Rosalie stiffened up in the passenger seat and breathed in heavily as Esme killed the engine. "Why are you stopping here? I can barely make out the house."

"I figured we could say our car stalled and then play it by ear."

"Cell phones," Rosalie reminded her.

"No service."

"Gotcha."

Esme sighed and put her keys in her pocket and the two of them got out.

"You know," Rosalie said, "Jodie Foster this and a skin ripping serial killer answered the door." She sighed, "What if they're waiting for us? What if they have a gun and shoot us dead?"

"It's been a year, Rose, they could have done that already."

Esme lead way up to the old farm house that looked exactly like a serial killer might live in it. The surroundings would have been perfect - it was secluded, private and surrounded by woods on all sides. The driveway felt like it went on for miles and the next neighbor was a good quarter of a mile away.

No one would hear us scream, Esme thought.

Rosalie walked a step behind her, but quickly caught up when she felt spooked.

The two of them marched up the front steps of the door and Esme gave a loud series of knocks. When no one immediately answered, she waited patiently.

"Well, nobody's home," Rosalie said, "It was a good try."

Esme looked at Rosalie and then lead the way around the side of the house. She assumed someone was home because the big door was open and music played inside.

"Can I help you?" A woman asked as they rounded the corner.

Esme and Rosalie jumped back and Rosalie put a hand on her forehead to compose herself from the shock of nearly bumping into her.

"Oh, um..." Esme cleared her throat. "Our car stalled right down there and we can't get service. Do you think we could use your phone?"

The woman looked back at them skeptically and ran a hand through her short, messy blond hair. She didn't say anything but began to walk toward the front door.

Rosalie and Esme exchanged a glance but followed close behind.

"My name is Missy Biers," she claimed.

Esme felt her heart grow heavy as she studied the young woman's appearance. She looked tired, run down and as if she had completely let herself go. There were bags under her eyes that seemed to take up half of her face.

"The phone is in the kitchen just over here," Missy went on.

"Thank you," Esme said, and then looked at Rosalie. "Um... Jodi... would you mind going to call Triple A?"

Rosalie hesitated and caught up with Esme's white lie. "You got it... Angela."

Missy looked at the two of them for a moment and Rosalie whipped around to go into the kitchen, jumping back with a gasp as she turned directly into a long, black jacket that hung on a coat rack. She caught her breath and smiled before continuing on to use the phone.

"This is a nice, big farmhouse," Esme said, looking around. "Do you... do you live alone?"

"Yeah I do." Missy ran a hand through her messy hair. "Where are you girls from?"

"Oh, Southport," Esme informed her.

"I went to Southport High."

"Oh did you? I thought you looked familiar. What year?"

"Oh, Class of '98."

"Were class of 2003." Esme hesitated, "Your name... Biers... it sounds so familiar. I thought maybe we would have went to school together."

"Well I had a brother Riley." She looked away, "But he was younger than me... younger..."

Esme hated to ask the next question. "Well is he-"

"He's dead," Missy interrupted her before she could go on any farther, "He died... a year ago."

She had to compose herself and bit down on her lip to keep from showing emotion. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks." She put a hand on her face. "My father passed away when we were young and my mother... she didn't take too well to Riley's death so she's in a home, you know, not too far from here... things just haven't been the same since he died."

Rosalie joined them again and tiptoed back in upon hearing the nature of their conversation. "They're on there way," Rosalie informed them.

Esme nodded and looked down at a small table filled with pictures in frames. There were several of David and Missy together. She looked lively and young and happy in the photos, far different than the way she looked now.

"You know I think I remember Riley," Rosalie joined in. "He always hung around this guy, they were so close."

Esme shared a look with her friend, knowing she was making up the information.

"Who?" Missy cocked her head to the side. "I didn't know many of Riley's friends because he was about five years younger than me."

"Gosh, what was his name?" Rosalie shook her head, trying to draw an answer out of Missy. To their luck it worked.

"You know there was a guy," Missy told them. "He stopped by not too long after Riley's death... you know to pay his respects."

"Really?" Esme asked.

"Yeah..." she smiled for a moment, "Oh, gosh, he was cute and smart... just a nice, nice guy. We talked and shared a nice conversation for about two minutes. He never said anything but I think it hurt him to be around me."

"What was his name?" Rosalie asked.

"Billy."

"Billy what?"

"Blue... Billy Blue." Missy sighed and came out of the short daydream.

Esme swallowed hard. She felt as if the walls were caving in around her. For whatever reason listening Missy made her feel weak in the knees and sick to her stomach.

We ruined these poor people's lives, Esme thought.

"You know," Esme said, "We should probably go wait at the car for Triple A." Tears were beginning to develop in her eyes but she managed a a quick, "Thank you."

"Oh, no, please stay," Missy insisted, "I'll make you ladies some lemonade or there are fresh cookies in the kitchen from earlier this afternoon."

"Thank you," Rosalie said, "We appreciate everything." She gave a wave and repeated herself, "Thank you Missy."

Rosalie hurried to catch up with Esme who had begun to cry as she walked fast across the yard.

"If you girls ever are up this way again stop by!" Missy called after them with a wave from the porch. "I don't get too many knocks on my door nowadays."

Esme got into the driver's seat and dried her eyes as best as she could before Rosalie joined her.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"I weaker out. I'm sorry." Esme shook her head and started up the car. A loud bang on the window made both of them jump.

"Hey! You forgot your wallet!" Missy held up Rosalie's wristlet and Esme rolled the window down to retrieve it.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Well, I see you got this car started up," Missy noticed, taking a step back.

Esme continued to try to keep her emotions in check. "Yeah the damn thing started right up."

"Funny how that happens."

Esme forced a smile and nodded before pulling the car away from the old farm house.

She glanced in the rear view mirror to see Missy standing there alone, watching them go.