[AC+IS] 1960s American South

The year is 1965, and Willow Creek, Texas looks peaceful from a distance. On the north side of town, sprinklers tick across trimmed lawns in North Willow, and the white steeple of First Baptist rises clean against the sky. Friday night football banners hang in shop windows. Garden parties are planned weeks in advance. Invitations matter. Appearances matter more. South of the railroad tracks, life moves differently. In East Bend, gospel drifts from open church windows and porch lights hum against thick evening air. In South Willow, families gather after long shifts, voices low but steady, children running barefoot across dusty yards. The Railroad Quarter wakes and sleeps by the whistle of passing trains. Work is constant. Watching eyes are constant too. Willow Creek is a segregated town built on tradition — on faith, land, reputation, and quiet rules no one writes down but everyone understands. Who you are depends on where you live. What you can become depends on who is willing to let you. The air feels heavy. A rumor is spreading. A patrol car lingers longer than usual near the river bend. And somewhere in town, someone is about to step outside the role they were given. This is Willow Creek. What side of town do you stand on?