Photos at the Great Northern

Their first stop was the Great Northern Hotel, now under mysterious new management. The lobby was empty, save for the occasional clerk shuffling papers behind the desk, avoiding eye contact. Audrey felt a strange energy in the air, a palpable sense of secrets and shadows lurking just out of sight. They approached the elevator, the doors opening with a soft ding to reveal the same plush velvet interior that had witnessed countless trysts and whispers in the dead of night.

As they rode up to the floor where Laura had once stayed, Audrey's stomach twisted in knots. What if the answers she sought only led to more pain? What if the truth was something she couldn't bear to face? The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open to reveal the familiar hallway, its wallpaper a pattern of swirling red roses that seemed to dance in the dim light.

They found Laura's old room, the door slightly ajar. Inside, it was a shrine to a girl whose life had been tragically cut short. Audrey stepped inside, feeling a chill run down her spine. It was as if Laura's presence was still there, a silent specter watching over her.

On the dresser lay a single, blood-red rose, a poignant reminder of the bond they had once shared. Audrey picked it up, the petals cool and velvety in her hand. It was a message, she was sure of it—a clue from beyond the grave, urging her to dig deeper into the town's murky past.

Her gaze drifted to the open drawer beside her, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw a stack of photographs. With trembling fingers, she picked up the top one. It was a picture of Donna Hayward, another classmate, naked and frozen in shock. The next was of Lucy Moran, the local diner's waitress, her eyes wide with horror. Each picture told a story of humiliation, of a girl's innocence stolen and displayed for the town's perverse enjoyment.

But it was the last one that made her blood run cold. It was her, Audrey, captured in a moment of complete vulnerability. The image was grainy, but there was no mistaking the raw fear and betrayal etched on her face. She had been photographed, her naked body exposed and used as a pawn in some sick game. The realization hit her like a sledgehammer—there were nude photos of her floating around Twin Peaks.

Her hand shook as she gaped in horror at the photo.

"How could they do this?" she whispered, her voice trembling. The room seemed to close in around her, the walls whispering of scandals and shattered reputations. She had to get out, to find whoever was responsible for this and make them pay.