The entries, written in Beatrice’s elegant, spindly script, didn’t detail recipes or weather patterns. They detailed the sins of Oakhaven’s elite. For fifty years, Beatrice hadn't just lived in the village; she had held its leash.
“The girl in the well was never forgotten by the earth. Tonight, the water has turned bitter. I can no longer keep the secret for them. I will tell the truth tomorrow.” A Dreadful Secret by Rose Pearson
"Found everything you were looking for, Elara?" he asked, his voice like grinding gravel. "Your aunt was a woman who knew the value of keeping things buried." written in Beatrice’s elegant