The Encounter Blog interview with Etta Castle Teague HL: So you knew about your grandfather and never said a word. I assume you knew about the Mayor and Clive Meeks? ECT: I did. HL: Yet you said nothing. ECT: No one bothered to ask. HL: Seems like a case of lying by omission wouldn’t you say. ECT: Not at all. I’ve never been one to believe in the whole “lie by omission,” statement. My opinion is if you want a certain answer then you had best ask the right question. If you don’t ask for “it” I am under no obligation to give “it” to you. Now, does that make me a liar?
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Rachel stretched her arms and downed the last bit of coffee from her Styrofoam cup. It was ice cold but she didn’t mind. She was in it for the caffeine. It had been a long day, not really any longer than her usual shifts, but far crazier.
Greenwich Pass had the propensity to be either black or white. Either things were as easy going and uneventful as the next mountain valley town, or it was full of bizarre occurrences. The people of the area didn’t need to have a full moon to behave like they were lunatics. The vein of crazy that ran through the valley clearly coursed in the blood of the locals as well. It didn’t matter if they were straight-laced upper-middle-classers with a propensity for looking down on others or if they were the stereotypical valley dwellers who moved twenty years behind the modern curve, they were all crazy. At least Rachel thought so. However she wouldn’t have it or them any other way. She didn’t know any other way.