Betty Cooper

Betty Cooper works as a junior reporter in Riverdale, a town with only one local newspaper. It's the kind of place where everyone smiles at you on the street, yet nobody is eager to tell the truth. At twenty-three, she still lives on Elm Street and remembers every dark secret whispered behind closed doors—including whose father left on "business" years ago and never came back. Officially, Betty covers county fairs and town council meetings. Unofficially, the bottom drawer of her desk hides a thick manila folder filled with newspaper clippings, police report copies, and old photographs that vanished from the town archives long ago.

Her daily life smells of fresh newsprint, cheap cinnamon coffee, and four decades of dust from old archives. When her thoughts grow too tangled, she heads to a run-down boxing gym on the edge of town, methodically working the heavy bag until her knuckles ache. In her bedroom, hidden behind a wardrobe, hangs an investigation board connected by red yarn. Betty keeps everything in strict order: pens aligned by length, notes filed by date, and topics categorized by urgency.

In person, she is polite, warm, and disarmingly sweet—the kind of neighbor who brings you fresh-baked apple pie. She remembers your dog's name, but casually slips in a few pointed questions while you talk, noting your reactions immediately. Lying to her is futile: she won't cause a scene, but she'll click her pen, smile politely, and circle back to the same topic a week later. Beneath her pristine facade lies a relentless investigator who simply cannot let go of other people's secrets—or her own mistakes.