The small town of Goldgrass seemed as perfect as it could be for a small town. Those with fantasies of saying hello to everyone they passed, or dreaming of twinkling lights during the holidays, flocked to the area. Everyone was a family member of someone else, or a friend close enough to call a brother. Trends skipped over the settlement like a stone on water, sinking instead into the nearby city. The small town of Goldgrass seemed as perfect as it could be for those who loved to know everyone.  
One September day, when the leaves were beginning to create a crunchy coating on the ground, a man came in through the golden stalks that had given Goldgrass their name. Tattoos snaked up his pale arms, and he wore a scowl along with his beard. No one knew him; he was not Jim's son nor Carrie's great-nephew. His appearance created gossip, possibly more than any scandal before. He was a drug dealer. Leader of a gang. The most feared, a developer planning to extend the nearby city to their precious home. He spent all his time on a bench in the field of grass, jotting in a notebook. Everyone claimed to know something regarding him, though no one had spoken to him– only the realtor, who gave his name as Mr. White. 
Now, I must pause for a moment to tell you about Aurora Abbott, the other player in this magnificent game of chess. She had auburn hair to her knees, and freckles dotting her fair skin. Though not extremely beautiful, she was pretty enough for girls and women to gossip about. And she was seventeen when the mysterious man moved to Goldgrass, a senior only a few months from freedom. At the top of her class, everyone knew she was bound to end up at a good college before returning home. Though, it seemed no one cared enough to notice the sadness in her eyes when the return was mentioned.  
Aurora stayed an arm's length from the gossip, though it could not escape her. As suspected, her mother, Mrs. Elena Abbott, clicked her tongue the moment she saw Mr. White. She sipped her soup as she eyed where he strolled past the restaurant. "Now, Aurora, I don't want you anywhere near that fellow." 
Her daughter scoffed, not glancing up from her phone. "Mama, he has to talk to people eventually." 
Mrs. Abbott frowned. She was firmly grasped onto the belief that he was the serial killer who'd escaped from prison five years prior. 
"Mary, are you comfortable with your grandkids around that... stranger?" Two elderly women hobbled out the door past the Abbotts, voices low on the word stranger. Aurora heard, eyebrows furrowing as she straightened a little in her chair. Mrs. Abbott knew the look; her daughter had been a genius since age two, and she'd come up with new projects weekly. However, she did not expect her daughter to stand from the table and rush through the front door. Mrs. Abbott finished her soup with whispers surrounding her. 
I will warn you now, Aurora's genius- some would say demented- plan ended in scandal. Murder, though the media got the victim wrong. 
On October 04, while leaves were falling to the ground in the early morning light, Aurora slipped out of her house and into the golden stalks. She found her lover at his home, voice cracking as she told him "I love you" for the first and last time. She left a scrapbook at her best friend's house, a birthday present, she said. 
Then she went into the grass fields. Now, this is where the detectives got the story all wrong.  
The story in the New York Times said she was assaulted. The police found her phone. She'd taken a video, as she ran from her abuser, muttering into her phone.  
"Help. I'm scared. 
"He's coming, he's coming." 
They never found her body, though, they assumed it was hidden by the abuser, murderer. Who, of course, they believed to be none other than Mr. Atticus White. They never found his body either. He fled, the press said, knowing the evidence was too strong against him. "Oh, Aurora was a genius," her mother wailed, in a quote soon to appear in nationwide news. 
In New York City, a seventeen year old genius with a fresh platinum bob sat in a coffee shop. She admired the busyness of the city through the window before opening the newspaper. A smirk slowly spread over her face as she read the cover story. A glint of something, madness perhaps, passed through her eyes, knowing the plot had unfolded perfectly. She, Aurora Abbott, was free.