She shifted her injured leg slightly and winced, her eyes remaining closed. Her tone carried a profound exhaustion, which she was trying to maintain even now.
Ethan, sitting in the back, looked out the window at the gray fields drifting past. He remained silent for a long time, gathering his thoughts, before asking quietly without taking his eyes off the road:
"And who is this client of yours, Dad? You've never told us about him in detail."
David didn't answer right away. He continued to drive, looking straight ahead. For a few seconds, the only sound was the steady hum of the engine and the soft music from the speakers. Then, their father slowly raised his eyes and looked at Ethan through the rearview mirror.
"You don't need to know about that just yet," — he replied evenly, without any extra emotion.
"This person doesn't want to show himself. He is very cautious. Perhaps when I'm gone, he'll show up on his own and ask you a couple of questions. But for now… let things stay as they are. You don't need to know what kind of persona he is."
Ethan met his father's gaze in the mirror and realized that arguing was useless. David rarely spoke in that tone, but when he did, it meant the topic was closed.
Gina, still without opening her eyes, snorted softly:
"A mysterious stranger… sounds like the beginning of a bad detective story."
David smiled almost imperceptibly out of the corner of his mouth, but the smile quickly vanished. He looked back at the road.
"Some things are better learned later," — he said quietly.
"When you're ready."
Ethan leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Questions were spinning in his head, but judging by everything, there would be no answers today.
The car continued to hum steadily, carrying them further down the highway toward Riverdale.
Outside the window, fields, occasional farms, and the distant silhouettes of mountains slowly drifted by. Gina cracked one eye open and chuckled without changing her posture in the seat. The corner of her mouth quirked up in her usual mocking smile.
"Sounds suspicious, Dad," — she murmured sleepily.
David only shrugged, not taking his eyes off the road. His hands rested calmly on the steering wheel, but Ethan noticed how the muscles in his forearms tightened slightly.
— "A lot of things in our line of work sound suspicious," — he replied calmly.
"The main thing is that he pays and provides accurate information. That's enough for now."
Silence settled in the cabin once again, broken only by the quiet music and the steady hum of the engine. David looked in the rearview mirror, first at Ethan, then at Gina. His gaze softened.
"Now both of you, sleep," — he added, his voice softer now, almost fatherly.
"We still have a whole hour to go, maybe two because of the traffic jams near the river. We need to be fresh in Riverdale. I'll wake you when we get there."
Gina mumbled something unintelligible in response and leaned deeper into her seat, closing her eyes. A couple of minutes later, her breathing became steadier; she was actually starting to fall asleep.
Ethan sat in the back, his cheek pressed against the cool glass. He watched the fast silhouettes slowly drifting past the window.
He closed his eyes, trying to get at least a little rest. Gina muttered in a sleepy, barely audible voice:
"Okay…"
She leaned deeper back into the seat and pulled the hood of her jacket over her face, almost completely covering her eyes.
David reached out and turned the radio down lower. The calm, serious voice of a local news announcer flowed from the speakers:
"…the search continues in Riverdale for three fishermen who went missing over the past week near the old bridge. Police are considering the theory of an accident, but relatives are insisting on a more thorough investigation. We remind you that due to the recent equality pact, all incidents involving… vampires have been dismissed…"
Their father turned the volume down even lower, almost to a whisper. He cast a quick glance in the rearview mirror at the sleeping children and sighed quietly.
The minivan kept driving forward along the highway, carrying the family closer and closer to Riverdale,the small town by the river where, according to the client, something very bad was happening.
But inside the car's cabin, it was cozy. Only the quiet music from the radio and the hum of the engine accompanied their journey.
About two hours later, the minivan finally entered the small town of Riverdale.
David reduced his speed, and the car rolled quietly down the main street. Riverdale looked sleepy and slightly abandoned, a typical, small American town by the river that had seen better days.
Wooden houses with peeling paint, old shop signs, some of which were boarded up with planks.
There were barely any people on the sidewalks; only occasional passersby walked with their heads down, bundling up in their jackets.
Over the river, which was visible between the houses, hung a light, milky-white fog, as if the town were hiding something in its depths.
David parked not far from the police station, an old, two-story brick building with a battered American flag that fluttered lazily in the wind. The flag looked faded and tired, just like this entire town.
He shut off the engine. The motor died with a quiet sigh. For a few seconds, silence filled the car, with only the faint crackling of the cooling engine audible.
David turned around to face the children and tapped on the roof of the car.
"Wait for me here," — he said calmly, with a certain confidence.
"I'll go inside and ask around. Talk to the sheriff. Don't go anywhere without me. Even if someone comes up and says it's urgent. Understood?"