Tuesday, 6:49 am
“Good morning, this is Sadie Summers from Channel 6 news. I’m here in the studio today joined by–”
Sadie’s bubbly voice is cut short as my mom clicks off the small television that resides on our cluttered kitchen counter. I watch the news reporter’s face disappear into an abyss of static. My attention returns to my half-eaten bowl of cereal, which has started to get soggy.
“Finish up. You’re gonna miss the bus,” my mom orders, zipping around the kitchen. She stops to bend down and help my sister tie her shoe, which she has unsuccessfully been attempting for the last five minutes. Mom pulls frantically at the pink shoelaces, to which Evie protests. At almost seven years old, she’s insistent on being independent.
I give up on the cereal and toss my bowl into the already-full sink, realizing that it’s going to be my problem later when I get home from school. I collect my essentials: the oversized denim jacket from the back of the chair, a water bottle covered in both dents and faded stickers, and a pair of blue head phones to tune out the noise on the bus.
Noticing the time on the oven, Mom lets out an exasperated sigh and grabs both her and Evie’s belongings for the day. She always drops Evie off at school before going to work. I, however, am not so lucky.
I swing my weighed-down backpack over my shoulder and give a rushed goodbye as I walk outside, hearing their muffled responses through the glass door as it slams shut behind me.
My jacket does nearly nothing to protect me from the bitter October wind. It creeps through the sleeves, and through the holes in my jeans. My arms instinctively cross over my chest in a futile attempt to deter the cold air as I walk to the bus stop at the end of the road. The world is still and silent, except for the rustling of dying branches and the occasional windchime.
When I get to the end of the road, I can hear the low grumbling of the bus making its way up the hill, but can only see the headlights faintly through the fog. In the last few moments of peace I have before it approaches, I try to prepare myself as best as I can. Finally, it creaks to a stop in front of me, the door swinging open with a sigh. The gate to Hell.
I barely hear the “mornin’” from the bus driver as I shuffle my way down the dark aisle. Being one of the first ones on the route, I usually get my pick of seats. I pick the same one in the middle everyday. The ripped, gray cushion is cold against the backs of my legs, despite the sound of the heat attempting to warm us up.
I take out my headphones and place them over my ears, careful to avoid the dark, curly bun that sits at the top of my head. The mob of noise swarming my ears becomes distant, and then disappears altogether as I press the play button on my phone. I turn to the foggy window, where I can just make out my brown eyes staring back at me.
The music drowns out the world around me, and I am no longer in the small town of Callford. No more cracked-pavement roads and broken fences. Brown lawns or broken glass on the sidewalks of the main road. I don’t know where I am, but I’m glad that the song is, even if just for a minute, taking me out of here.
But just for a minute.
A static sound interrupts the music, as if someone is changing a chan nel. I lift one side of the headphones from my ear, thinking that it’s coming from somewhere else on the bus. Only hearing the mechanical growl of the engine, I re-adjust the headphones. The crackling continues, until I faintly make out a familiar voice.
“…restaurant on Main Street…Callford…fire”
The voice cuts off into static for a moment, and then my headphones continue playing the song. I realize where I know the voice; it’s Sadie Summers, the news reporter.
I urgently look out the window, realizing we’re about to turn onto Main Street. My mind races, trying to think of all the restaurants I know of.
We pass the Callford Cafe, which, despite the weathered shingles, looks okay to me. Definitely no fire. Izzy’s, a little further down, is the same. I quickly turn to my left to catch a glimpse of the last few on the street, but everything looks normal. I look around at the bus, which still only has a few people on it, and nobody looks as alarmed as I do. In fact, most people are either asleep or staring at bright screens with tired eyes.
Clicking on my own screen, I type in the words I heard: restaurant… Main Street…Callford…fire. Nothing comes up, except for an article from years ago. I try to rationalize with myself. I mean, I saw all the restaurants. Everything’s fine. It probably was some other station that hijacked my headphones. Either that or I’m imagining things.
By the time I’ve convinced myself that I’m absolutely crazy, the bus rolls to a stop in front of my best friend Hadley’s house. Her dog, Scout, sits alert on the porch next to three messily carved Jack-o-Lanterns with flickering lights inside. The door opens in a whirlwind as Hadley rushes outside, trying to zip up her backpack while running down the steps and across the lawn. I am positive that she just finished her homework, which she confirms when she plops down next to me in the seat.
“I swear, Jenny has it out for me,” Hadley says, complaining about the bus driver. “She comes earlier every day.”
“Well, maybe if you did your homework after school instead of twenty minutes before, you could catch the bus,” I reply with a smirk.
“Hey, I still manage to get on, don’t I?”
She talks to me for the last stretch of the bus ride, and I feel a familiar pit in my stomach as we approach the school, remembering I have a test today. At least this is our last year.
We grab our bags and squeeze through the narrow aisle, thanking Jenny on our way out. I decide not to tell Hadley about the whole fake-creepy news-report-thingy, at least not right now. I’m pretty sure I hallucinated the whole thing anyways, which would make sense considering my lack of sleep.
We walk into the school and head down the hallway in a herd of groggy students towards the shiny blue lockers. For a town that’s pretty run down, the high school is surprisingly nice.
“I’ll see you after school,” Hadley calls, walking away.
My fingers fumble with the combination, and I finally get it on the third try, shoving my bag inside. I create a precariously stacked pile of books and binders for the day and merge my way back into the tired crowd to get to class.
Tuesday, 2:45 pm
While I type away on my keyboard, Hadley sits on the other side of the table, scrolling through her phone. Her anatomy textbook lies open in front of her, but she seems to have no intention of actually studying. I focus my attention back on my history essay.
That is, until Hadley interrupts me to show me a video. I can’t make out what she’s saying through my headphones, so I lift them off my head.
“Did you see this?” she asks, pushing her phone out towards me. “The school’s having a radio station come to DJ the homecoming game. Sounds like it’s gonna be pretty big, tailgate and everything.”
“Sounds cool,” I reply half-heartedly, even though I really have no desire to go.
I go to put my music back on but hesitate.
“Hey, Had,” I start. I want to tell her about what I heard earlier. I want to tell her everything.
“What’s up?” she asks.
“I was just wondering if you wanted to come back to my house for dinner. My mom can take us back there at 4,” I say, changing my mind at the last minute. She would only say what I’ve already decided myself: that it was just my imagination.
She says yes, and we get back to work. Well, work and scrolling.
Tuesday, 6:03 pm
We sit on my bed, legs folded up under a light pink blanket. We’re watching some crime show that a girl at school recommended to us. It’s not that good. I hear a knock at my door, and Evie waits approximately 0.01 seconds before shoving open the door.
“Mom says dinner’s ready,” Evie announces, inching her way closer to us.
“Okay, we’ll be down in a sec,” I say, annoyed. I love her, but she’s always coming into my room to be nosy.
“Can I watch?” she asks while trying to climb up the bed. Her curly black hair–a replica of mine on a tinier body–moves around wildly as she pushes herself up.
I notice the bloody crime scene taking place on my laptop and quickly close it before Evie can see it.
“Nope. Let’s go downstairs.”
This, of course, sends Evie into tears, a tantrum which can only be quieted by Hadley grabbing her hand and leading her to the table.
We sit in creaky wooden chairs at the small, rectangular table while Mom puts a pot of spaghetti and meatballs on a trivet in the center. While I scoop some into a bowl for Evie, I notice the TV playing faintly in the corner.
We sit for a while, eating and talking. Evie tells us all about her day, including what she did at recess, who was being bossy on the playground, and what she painted in art class. Just as I predicted, I get stuck with dishes, and start taking everyone’s plates to the sink. Hadley sits at the table with Evie, playing some game that involves clapping and singing.
As I scrape the rest of the spaghetti into an old tupperware container, I hear Sadie Summers’ voice covering the nightly news. Normally I don’t pay any attention to it; my mom’s the one who likes to watch it. But I hear some thing familiar.
“Earlier today a local restaurant on Main Street in Callford caught f ire, leaving two people injured. Luckily, this disaster did not claim any lives, but—”
I rush over to the small TV, dropping the pot in the sink with a loud clang, and make out the burnt remains of what used to be Izzy’s.
“What’s going on?” my mom asks, alarmed by the sound. She sees the screen and lets out a distracted condolence for the restaurant.
I give Hadley a glance, and she follows me as I rush to the stairs.
“Thea, you ok?” Mom asks.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I reply, even though I’m definitely not.
She says something about finishing the dishes, and I hear Evie com plaining about the absence of Hadley at the table as I push my door shut. I instantly reach for my laptop and start typing frantically.
“What happened?” Hadley asks, sitting down next to me.
“Okay, this is gonna sound really crazy,” I warn. “I heard about the fire.”
“Yeah, we all just did,” she says, confused.
“No, I mean this morning. Before you got on the bus I was listening to music, and I heard that same news report from that lady.”
She gives me a look that confirms that, yes, she thinks I’m really crazy.
“Look,” I show her my search history from this morning. Restaurant… Main Street…Callford…fire. 6:57 am. “I don’t know if I imagined it or what, but I heard this static, and then I heard the news. And then I drove past Izzy’s, and it was totally fine.”
I type some more, looking for when the fire happened. “I think it was around 4:30, maybe a little before. We didn’t go past it when we left the library.”
Hadley thinks for a minute, not sure what to make of the absurdity I just dropped on her.
“It’s probably just a coincidence,” she concludes. “You know how sometimes you have a dream at night, and then the next day something similar happens? It was probably like that.”
I decide to agree with her, even though I’m not really convinced.
“Let’s take our mind off of it. We can drive to the mall tomorrow after school and finally get our homecoming dresses.” Hadley smiles, knowing that’s probably the last thing I want to do.
After I calm myself down, we head downstairs so I can finish the dishes. Once Hadley heads home, I put my headphones on and listen to music uninterrupted for the night, until I drift off to sleep.
Wednesday, 2:14 pm
Hadley and I take the bus home from school so we can borrow her mom’s car and drive to the mall. We have to go a few towns over, since the shopping options here are quite limited. I sit by the window while Hadley sits facing the seats next to us, talking to a group of friends. I’m only listening to the conversation vaguely, but I make out something about the radio booth at the game and how they’ll be giving away concert tickets.
As the bus rolls down Main Street, I see the charred skeleton of the diner come into view. The talking fades away as everyone cranes their necks to look out the window. A few people make comments and theories, but everyone turns their attention back to Homecoming this weekend. Hadley gives me a concerned glance, which I meet with a forced grin. If I pretend like this is okay, then maybe it’ll be okay.
I zone out for a few more minutes until we get to Hadley’s house, where Scout jumps up from her place on the porch to greet us with a wagging tail. We say goodbye to Jenny, and then head inside to leave our bags.
Hadley’s mom welcomes me with a hug, like she does every time I come over. As per usual, the house is pristinely decorated for Halloween, with cobwebs and leaves covering the mantle under the TV. She tries to get us to stay and drink some cider, which makes Hadley roll her eyes.
“Mom, we really gotta get to the mall. I’ll hang out with you later,” she reasons. Ever since Hadley’s older sister went to college, her mom’s been trying to spend as much time as possible with her.
We eventually escape to the car and start the drive to the mall.
“You think I’m okay to turn on the radio?” Hadley asks with a laugh.
Wednesday, 5:24pm
We sit in the food court of the mall, devouring sandwiches and bags of chips. All the trying on dresses has made us work up an appetite. I already found a dress in the first store we went in. It’s nothing too special, but I liked the dark blue color, so I bought it. Hadley, on the other hand, has not found anything, despite all the stores we’ve been in. We decide that after we finish our food, we’ll check the department store at the other end of the mall.
Once we get there, Hadley instantly makes her way to the dresses, stacking them over her arm. We’re gonna be here for a while. Finally, she heads to the dressing room after collecting nearly every homecoming dress in the place.
I plop down on a soft, red sofa and dig around in my bag for my headphones. I put them on cautiously, as if this will somehow protect me. I am relieved when I press play on my playlist and actually hear music, instead of a certain news reporter.
I play the music low, so I can hear Hadley’s complaining through the dressing room door.
“This one doesn’t fit…I hate this color…too long.”
She opens the door slightly, to hide herself from the other people walking in and out.
“Can you help me zip this one? I actually kinda like it,” she asks. I go into the dressing room and start to tug at the zipper, when my quiet music is cut off by a loud burst of static. I jump, nearly crashing into the wall.
“Jesus, Thea, what happened?”
I frantically shush her and listen to Sadie’s voice come through faintly. It’s definitely clearer than the first time, but not by much.
“morning…Callford High… Homecoming…3 students.”
Wednesday, 6:08 pm
“Okay- tell me what you heard one more time,” Hadley asks, eyes focused on the road.
“Had, I told you everything already. Just something about our school and Homecoming.”
“We need to talk to someone about this.”
“Who?” I question. “Should we just go to the police and be like, ‘Hey, I heard about the fire yesterday morning and then it actually happened! And now, my haunted headphones are warning me about Homecoming!’ I’m sure that’d go over super well.” Okay, maybe I’m being a little harsh.
Hadley sits for a moment, silent.
“Well,” I start. “I didn’t hear anything bad. In the first one, Sadie liter ally said the word ‘fire.’ Maybe this time it’s something good?” I offer, trying to console both her and myself. Technically, it’s a possibility.
I watch the red and yellow leaves fall from the trees onto the road, where they’re instantly plowed over by the tires of the car.
“I guess you’re right,” Hadley says finally. “We’ll just have to see.”
And that’s what we decide to do.
Friday, 5:14 pm
I tug at the skin under my eyes, trying to smudge white eyeliner into my waterline. Hadley, who stands next to me, wraps her blonde hair on the barrel of a curling iron. I sneak glances at her reflection in the wide mirror to try to copy her eye makeup, but it’s not working out as well for me.
“So, if the game starts at seven, we need to leave in twenty minutes so we have time to park and hang out at the tailgate,” Hadley thinks out loud, unraveling the spiral of hair from the iron.
I’m focused on perfecting my mascara, so I absentmindedly reply. I blink accidentally, stabbing myself in the eye with the wand. I have to grab a tissue and rub my eye, which only ruins the eyeliner.
Hadley combs through her hair with her fingers, separating the curls and asks, “Are you sure you want to go?”
I think for a moment, still unsure of our earlier decision.
“Of course I do. You’ve been waiting for this weekend all summer.”
We finish getting ready and leave our supplies scattered on the bath room countertop. After a final check in the mirror, we grab our jackets and are ready to go.
Friday, 5:59 pm
Hadley pulls into one of the few remaining parking spots in the lot, the car shaking from the bass of the music. It’s coming from the booth of the radio station, where the hosts sit, giving out contest forms to students. The Homecoming game is a huge deal; just about the entire town shows up. Despite the fact that the weather is near freezing tonight, everyone’s here, sporting their best blue and white blankets and hats.
We step out of the car into the cold, abandoning the heat. Hadley goes to the trunk and pulls out two folding chairs and extra blankets. I grab some soda and snacks from my bag, and we sit for a while, chatting with people who pass by. Not everyone is drinking just soda, which is obvious from the kids screaming and stumbling across the parking lot.
It’s getting dark pretty early, and soon the streetlamps come on, illuminating random cars and people. Country music blaring from a car to my left overlaps with the loud pop of the radio booth. I can’t stand the sound for too much longer, so we decide to head into the stadium to get a spot on the bleachers. People are already packed together with posters and pom-poms, talking excitedly to one another. Surprisingly, the buzz of the crowd soothes me.
Hadley and I grab a spot in one of the last rows, squeezing in with a few other friends, and as we wait for the game to begin, it’s the only thing on my mind.
Friday, 9:16 pm
Callford wins the game. As the students race back to their cars, we are pushed in a swarming herd of excitement and screaming. I can’t feel my ears or toes (thankfully I have my jacket, which spares my fingers), but I don’t mind.
The parking lot is a maze, with students weaving in between moving cars and each other. The sparse lighting doesn’t help, either.
When we make it to the car, Hadley opens the driver door to get the heat running. I open the trunk, throwing in our pile of blankets.
As I close it, I hear a jarring car horn, followed by a crash.
Saturday, 7:40 am
“Good morning, this is Sadie Summers with Channel 6 news. Our top story this morning: a crash last night took place after the Callford High School Homecoming game, injuring 3 students. We are–”
This time, I click off the TV. My mom shoots me a concerned look.
“I know this must be hard for you, baby,” she offers, “but they’re okay. I called all of their parents this morning.”
I feel tears start to well up in my eyes, but I wipe them away with my sleeve. I see Evie through my blurry vision, who looks up at me from her bowl. My mom comes over to my chair to hug me.
“Thea, I promise you, they’re going to be fine,” she says, bending down to look me in the eyes.
I push my chair away from the table and run upstairs to my room. I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Hadley’s number. I count four rings before she picks up.
“Hello?” she asks groggily.
“Hadley, did you see the news? It was the same thing I hear—”
She cuts me off mid-sentence.
“Yeah, Thea, I know. And I told you that we should have talked to someone about it.”
I hesitate.
“Well, yeah, but nobody would have believed me. I didn’t know that was going to happen,” I say, choking through tears.
“Thea, one of those people is my friend. And because I didn’t do anything about it, she’s hurt. Three people are hurt,” Hadley answers sharply.
I don’t really know what to say to that. I mean, her friend was prob ably drinking. It’s not like this is my fault. Now I hear Hadley tearing up, sniffling through the phone. We stay silent for another moment.
“Thea, I still think you should tell someone, at least your mom,” she suggests.
“Nobody would believe me,” I repeat quietly.
“I believed you, Thea. And I regret it,” she says, and then hangs up with a definitive click.
I sit on my bed, unsure of what to do. I try calling her again, and when she doesn’t answer, I send her a few texts. I’m sure those won’t get a reply.
Saturday, 12:01 pm
A group of people are going to the hospital to visit the three kids who were hurt. Everyone feels bad that they won’t get to go to the dance tonight.
Evie makes a couple of cards, scribbling hearts and backwards letters across white printer paper. The three of us stop at the store to get flowers, and then we make our way to the hospital.
The white walls seem to close in on me, almost as if they want to accuse me of something. The overwhelming smell of hand sanitizer makes me nauseous, so I hold the flowers closer to my nose. It doesn’t really help.
We have to wait a few minutes to see them, because nobody wants to overwhelm them with visitors. As I sit in the chair, I consider listening to music to take my mind off things, but ultimately decide that it’s a bad idea.
I see Hadley come through a door towards the exit, with her mom and dad standing behind her. She glances at me, and I offer her a wave, but she just keeps on walking. Luckily, Evie is focused on her coloring book, or she would have been devastated.
“Did something happen?” My mom asks.
“Kinda. Just a little fight,” I lie.
I watch her disappear out the doors and wait until it’s our turn to visit.
Saturday, 5:32 pm
So, the dance is at 7, so I need to leave at 6:45? Or will the line be really long? I don’t want to stand outside in the cold. Especially in a dress.
Usually Hadley’s the planner, and she would tell me exactly when to leave and when to start getting ready. But I still haven’t talked to her since this morning.
I step out of the shower into the foggy bathroom, a drop of blood falling onto the white carpet. I look down at my legs and see an array of cuts, thanks to the razor. Apparently I was a little lost in thought. I put band aids on the bigger ones, which stand out against my skin. Those will be a great accessory tonight, I think, exasperated with my own distance from reality. I wasn’t planning to go to the dance by myself, but it’s the only way I’ll be able to talk to Hadley, since she won’t answer me.
The school sent out an email that there will be officers at the dance to make sure nobody’s drinking. Nobody wants a repeat of last night, which reassures me. That, and the fact that I haven’t heard any more news reports today. Granted, I had stashed my headphones in a drawer in my room, but still.
I use my fingers to re-curl some of the hair by my face, and pin some of it back. I’m okay with hair, but makeup is a lost cause without Hadley here.
I work on it for a while, painting my face with liquids and powders until I’m satisfied with the final product. At least I manage to not poke myself in the eye with my mascara wand.
I check the time on my phone, seeing that I’ve spent much more time than I’ve planned on my makeup, and realize I need to get into my dress. My mom’s on the phone, so I call Evie to my room to help me zip it up. She tugs at it with surprising force for her age until she manages to pull it up my back. I stare at myself in the mirror for a minute, pleasantly surprised with how I look.
That is, until Evie comments on the band aids all over my legs.
“Okay Evie, I gotta go. Thanks for your help,” I say, grabbing my small bag. Even though it doesn’t match at all, I grab my trusty denim jacket, just to keep me at least slightly warm.
She responds by running out of my room to finish watching her show.
I follow close behind her, trying to grab my keys and sneak out the door before Mom notices. But of course, she does, and hangs up the phone to snap a ridiculous amount of pictures of me before I leave.
“Okay, come outside and stand by the tree. It’ll look so pretty,” she commands. I carefully maneuver my way over to the spot she’s pointing to, careful to not let my heels sink into the soft dirt. She makes me take off my jacket and pose awkwardly in every possible location around the yard.
“Evie,” she yells towards the house, still snapping pictures. “Come out here and take some pictures with your sister.”
Evie complains all the way to me, then puts on a fake smile while posing in front of me. After Mom’s finally content, Evie gives a loud sigh and rolls her eyes, making us laugh. I think she picked that up from me. I’ll have to be more careful around her.
I’m finally able to escape, and I make my way to the car, shivering. Goosebumps line my arms as I throw the jacket over my shoulders. I click the heat on, but not the radio. It’s a short drive, and I’m not taking any chances.
Saturday, 6:55 pm
I pull into an empty parking spot, scanning the lot for Hadley’s car. I spot it a few rows down, and I wonder if she came by herself or with other friends. I get a little jealous at the thought of the second option, even though I kind of deserve it.
I get out of the car and join the small groups of people who are walk ing inside. Everyone is either with friends or a date, and I suddenly feel very lonely.
I make it inside, relieved when the wind is no longer attacking me. I get in line behind a girl I know from history class, and I say a quick hello.
“Hey, have you seen Hadley by any chance?” I ask her, desperate to find my friend.
“Um, no I don’t think so. Maybe she’s already in the gym?” she suggests.
I nod, and hope that’s true. Although it’ll be tricky to find her. Pretty much every student at the school is in there.
The line moves pretty slowly, since the officers at the front of the line are making sure nobody’s drunk. Even though I’m not, I get worried for a second, as if they somehow know what I’ve been hiding. I run my fingers down the shiny row of lockers, which feel cold against my hands. I pass the police without any problems, and hand my ticket to the volunteer teachers who are running the check-in table. Luckily, I haven’t had any of them for classes. I don’t feel like having a conversation right now.
The pop music gets louder and louder as I step into the gym, which has transformed into a dance floor for the night. Piles of heels, bags, and jackets line the side of the room, abandoned by girls who would rather dance comfortably than stand against the wall, like me. I balance on my tiptoes, but can’t see Hadley anywhere. In fact, I can’t really make out anyone’s faces. The whole room is a dark box, illuminated by flashing LED lights and random phone flashlights searching for lost belongings on the floor.
Before I can protest, I get pulled into a circle of girls who I barely know. I think one of them is named Lena, but I’m really not sure. As a new song starts, they scream along to the lyrics with the crowd, and I try to enjoy myself with them for a few minutes. We dance, sing, and laugh until I get light headed. A song comes to an end, and I take the chance to sneak out to get to the bathroom.
The light in the hallway nearly blinds me, as does the flash from a camera at the photobooth. I turn towards it and see Hadley, posing with a few girls from one of her classes. I can tell she sees me, since her expression changes slightly, but she quickly pastes on a smile before the last flash goes off.
As she starts to walk back down the hallway, I cut her off. The other girls give me a weird look, which I try to ignore.
“I’ll find you guys in a minute,” Hadley says to them, avoiding eye contact with me.
“Had, can I please talk to you?” I plead. She agrees, and I lead her into the bathroom, where we can escape the noise. She leans against a sink, and I stand awkwardly across from her in front of a stall. She waits for me to say something.
“You’re right, I should have told someone,” I finally say, not sure I fully believe it. But I’ll do anything to make up with her.
She stays silent for a second, then replies, “I get why you didn’t. I mean, I kinda thought you were crazy after you told me,” she laughs. “I’m just glad that nobody else got hurt.”
“Me too.” I’m just glad she’s talking to me again.
“You haven’t heard anything else?” she asks.
I shake my head.
“Okay,” she decides, “let’s just forget about it. Everyone’s okay, and there’s nothing we can do to change it now.”
I let out a sigh of relief, shedding all the stress that’s built up over the last few days. We hug, and then start to walk out of the bathroom. I stop when I hear a buzzing from my phone, and take it out of my purse. I don’t recognize the number, but I answer it anyway.
I hold it up to my ear, and hear nothing for a minute. I am about to hang up when I hear a blast of static. Hadley looks at me alarmed, and I hear a familiar voice, but this time, it’s clearer than it has ever been.
“Good morning, this is Sadie Summers with Channel 6 News. Tonight, the town of Callford is struck with tragedy yet again as we mourn the loss of 18-year-old Thea Abbot.