The past is only as relevant as the present would allow it to be. The progression of the years, with all its tumbles and turns, dust over the artifacts of our youth, creating a thin layer of temporary oblivion. People don't really forget; they just cease to remember.

The murder that once shook an entire town, revealing the many secrets and the multitude of layers that each town folk carefully hid from the surface, was now just another closed case in a sheriff's file closet. Of course, the catalyst that was Jason Blossom's death had led to several changes that never really got undone. People changed, the whole town did. It was his death that led many of the town's youth to venture away from the place they once called home. People parted ways, taking on different paths as people do upon graduation. However, the invisible bond that tied them all together was still present, forgotten or not. A murder, after all, isn't just something people can turn away from. However, people can chose to push it aside in favor of new development in their lives.

For Betty Cooper, Jason Blossom's death was a thought that was always lingering but never really attended to. With her sister raising the once star athlete's child, it wasn't really something she could escape from. But she knew that her days as a teenage sleuth hunting down murderers were far behind her.

Now, she was just another journalist trying to get a byline on the front page. Although she had graduated from local fluff pieces, she was far from delivering hard-hitting exposés. She was, however, satisfied with having a regular column on interviews she'd have with people of interest. It gave her a stable income and allowed her to meet interesting people and know their stories. As a generally friendly person and a much talented journalist, Betty was assigned the job after an opening came up. It wasn't all that great, but it wasn't all that bad as well. Sometimes she'd get to interview the police or even witnesses when a big crime came up. Once, she even got to interview her old friends Josie and the Pussycats as they were a rising talent in the area. If you asked her, she was pretty happy with where she was. She'd climb the ladder to the front page eventually. But as a twenty-six year-old journalist, interviewing people was her life now.

So when news of a particular best-selling writer being in town came up, Betty shouldn't have been all that surprised when her boss called her into her office.

"Betty dear, I assume you've heard the news." Jane, her forty-three year-old boss, stated as she smiled at her from across the desk.

"I think that's kind of vague since we write all sorts of news each day." She responded. Jane only laughed at her in good humor.

"Oh, ever the joker you are." She said. "I'm talking about best-selling author F.P. Jones III coming in town for his book tour."

"Ah, yes. I've heard." She said with pursed lips. Jane continued, not really noticing the girl's slight discomfort.

"Now, I've scheduled a meeting with his agent right before his first book signing. It's going to be on Thursday. Here's the address and the contact details of Mr. Jones's agent, Dylan. Also, here's a list of questions you can ask him about the book, if you haven't read it. But I suggest you do. We don't want to insult Mr. Jones, now do we?" she said, sliding a few pieces of paper toward Betty.

"Oh don't worry. I have." She replied dryly.

"Excellent!" Jane said, clasping her hands in delight, not catching Betty's uncharacteristic response to a new piece.

"Uh, Jane?" Betty hesistated.

"Yes, dear?" the older woman eyed the girl carefully.

"I was wondering…maybe someone else could do the interview instead of me?" she suggested, "I mean I've seen Carl with his nose in that book and I know how much he loves it. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to take on this job instead of me."

"Oh, nonsense!" Jane merely chuckled, "Carl may be a good worker, but you Betty, you are the best! No one can interview people the way you do. You always know how to ask the right questions and get the right answers from these people."

"But - " she begins but Jane cuts her off.

"Besides, if I might remind you, Betty, this is your job and I am your boss. You do what a say." She said, replacing all humor from her face with a stern expression, "You should be thankful for getting this job, you know. Mr. Jones usually isn't that fond of interviews. But for whatever reason, he has agreed to this, and we shall not disappoint. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, Jane." She sighed with resignation.

"Now that's my yes girl!" she clapped with delight, "I expect a draft on my desk by Monday morning at the latest."

And with that, Betty was shooed away from Jane's office and back to her desk. She sat down with a deep exhale exiting her lungs, pulling back the drawer to pick up a slightly battered book.

Riverdale's Very Own in Cold Blood

She ran a finger through the slightly worn out spine before flipping the cover open. She stopped at one of the first few pages of the book. It was mostly blank aside from two words that her eyes were glued on to.

For Juliet.

Nothing followed. It was a simple dedication. But the words felt heavy and strong, never leaving her mind even as she went home and plopped down on the couch she and Veronica shared. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting her head fall on the couch. Her stomach churned in light dread at the thought of the upcoming Thursday. She took a moment to take it all in, only being disturbed at the sound of tiny footsteps heading her way. She opened her eyes and a small smile instantly made its way to her face.

"Hey there, little cutie! I missed you." She cooed, picking up the dark haired child and sitting him atop her lap.

"So how was your day?" she smiled, looking straight into his big blue eyes.