We slipped into the woods, the three of us moving carefully, our bare feet silent on the soft earth. The air was cool and heavy with pine and damp leaves. We crept toward the muffled moans, each step deliberate, trying not to make a sound. Phil leaned close and whispered, “Lou, didn’t know you watched Ghost Adventures. What season are you on?” Lou whispered back, “I’m up to date — seen all of them.” “What’s your favourite...

Chapter 4 We rolled up to the reception hut, a small wooden cabin half-hidden behind a row of wild hedges. A man stepped out to greet us before I’d even switched off the engine. He was tanned, barefoot, and wearing nothing but a wide-brimmed straw hat with the camp’s logo stitched neatly on the front — Bare Woodland. He smiled easily, completely unbothered by his lack of clothes. “Morning,” he said in a warm, cheerful ton...

Chapter Three The car hummed beneath us, tyres whispering over the road. Morning sun streamed through the windscreen, turning the lanes to soft gold. Lou had her bare feet on the dash, a beer balanced loosely in her hand even though it was barely ten. She looked easy and alive, as if the day had already chosen her. Phil sat behind me with his own bottle, the window half-open so a cool thread of air moved through the car....