Her Name Was Clara
Hey everyone—Ember again.
We found her.
Not like found her. But we found out who she was.
The Clue Was in a Yearbook (Sort Of)
It started in the archives again. Eva and I have basically made the school library our second home. Ms. Alvarez gives us side-eyes like she knows we’re doing something unofficial—but she keeps “forgetting” to lock the cabinet with the old town records, so we’re calling that a green light.
Eva found a small leather-bound book shoved between two yearbooks from the 1960s. It wasn’t a yearbook. It was a memorial journal. The kind they used to make when a student passed away.
Her name was Clara Millner.
She died in 1956.
A Flood, A Mistake, A Cover-Up
According to the journal, Clara was in 5th grade. She lived in a farmhouse that used to sit on the far edge of the wetland—where the swings are now.
One spring, after weeks of rain, the creek overflowed. The berms hadn’t been maintained. Her house flooded fast. The story says she tried to save her dog.
Neither of them made it.
Eva cried when she read that. I did too, later, when I was alone.
But here’s the thing.
We also found a faded memo tucked in the back, typed on a manual typewriter:
“RE: Liability – Millner family loss / Parcel reassessment – proposed boundary adjustment / avoid press.”
They didn’t just forget Clara.
They erased her.
Why She’s Still Here
We think Clara’s ghost isn’t haunting us just because of the new construction.
She’s trying to stop history from repeating.
She drowned because the wetlands were ignored—used like empty land, not a living thing.
And now it’s happening again.
But this time, maybe we can stop it.
What We’ll Do
We’re going to write everything down. We’ll present it to the board. The fake delineation. The map. The risk. And Clara’s story.
Eva’s mom is a lawyer. Mine’s with the city. They’ll help us. I think the teachers might too, if they feel safe.
We still have a few months before the end of school.
Before groundbreaking.
Before it’s too late.
Clara’s not alone anymore.
✌️ Ember