Riverdale Page

And outside, unseen through the rain-streaked window, a figure in a barn coat and muddy boots watched them. The figure smiled, turned, and disappeared into the dark woods where the secrets of Riverdale went to die—and sometimes, to be reborn.

Veronica raised an eyebrow. “I was thinking we start it.” Riverdale

Betty placed a folded piece of paper on the table. It was damp, the ink bleeding slightly, but the message was clear: The Devil’s in the Details, and the Details are in the Old Barn. And outside, unseen through the rain-streaked window, a

She sat down next to Jughead, who moved over reluctantly. “Pickens isn’t just digging up a barn. He’s digging up a sealed deposition from my father’s trial. A deposition that names names. Including mine.” “I was thinking we start it

Jughead’s pen stopped scratching. “Alice Cooper is in a facility two counties over. Medicated. Watched.”

The rain over Riverdale was never just rain. It was a mood, a threat, a confession. That Tuesday afternoon, it hammered the tin roof of Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe like a thousand tiny fists, blurring the neon sign into a red-and-blue bruise against the bruised sky.