1 Work by ratbone
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As was to be expected of a December evening, outside was dark and cold. Despite that, Stanford found himself feeling pleasantly warm as he and Fiddleford slowly made their way back to their shared dorm.
The road was void of any drivers, the only cars in the area being the ones parked on the side of the road, gradually getting covered with snow. One in particular caught his attention, its bright red colour a stark contrast to the pure white powder. Stanford’s eyes wandered to the license plate, and he stopped dead in his tracks once he actually comprehended what he’d just read.
Stanley’s car.