Veronica's POV
"I don't know! Go away, go away! Don't bother me anymore..."
Tim spun around and stormed back inside, the door slamming shut with enough force to rattle the frame.
Ryan and I shared a look. "Veronica, what's our move now? Maybe we should head back today and try again tomorrow. A few visits might wear him down."
"Alright."
I still had this nagging feeling that Tim was hiding something - he just refused to spill.
My curiosity was eating at me. Every single person who'd worked at that funeral home back then had vanished into thin air. Hunter had lost his mind, and now Tim was stuck in a wheelchair. What the hell had happened to all of them?
Those questions churned in my head as Ryan and I made our way back through the narrow streets.
Just as we reached the mouth of the alley, a motorcycle roared past us. The passenger lunged forward and snatched my shoulder bag right off my arm.
"My bag!" I shouted.
