Chapter 1
Annie
I’m typically notthe girl who gets nervous about a little nature. But Savannah, the inn’s receptionist, is giving me the kind of look you would give someone about to slow-dance barefoot through a rattlesnake pit. She’s got this ‘I’ve seen it all’ vibe going on…latte-colored hair pulled back in a messy bun, chipped nail polish, and eyes that judge a person with no mercy.
She leans over the counter, chewing gum, and oozing small-town skepticism. “So, you’re going on this hike, up Raven’s Ridge… alone?” Her eyebrows climb halfway to her hairline, and I know she’s sizing me up…neon-pink Nikes, ‘adventure-proof’ raincoat, the works.
I hit her with my best I-totally-got-this smile, the one I use when my life is actually on fire, a raging shitshow. “That’s the plan. It’s either hiking or another day of doom-scrolling through social media and the dread ofself-realization. I figured being surrounded by trees and nature is healthier than Twitter, right?”
She snorts, blows a perfect pink bubble that pops loud enough to make my inner child cringe. Her eyes move up and down, taking in my outfit like she’s mentally writing my obituary. “You’re not from the country, are you? Girl, have you ever been hiking before?”
“Guilty as charged. Charlotte… born and raised. And no. Is it that obvious?”
Savannah only nods and pops her gum again. “Just don’t wander off the trail, okay?” she says, her tone turning dead serious. “City folk come out here, think the woods are just a good story for their Instagram. Then they get cocky, take a shortcut, and wind up on a missing person poster at the post office. If you see clouds rolling in, you turn around. Don’t wait. Mother Nature doesn’t give warning shots around here.”
I place my hand over my heart. “Promise. I have zero desire to star in the new season of some true-crime series on Netflix.”
Her lips twist into a smirk. “Good. If you’re not back by dinner, I’ll send a search party. Or at least text you a warning meme.”
“Or you might want to check The Cozy Corner first,” I say, hoisting my backpack and slinging it over one shoulder. “If I’m not back, I’ve probably OD’d on cinnamon rolls.”
She laughs, shakes her head, and I’m out the door,half buzzing with excitement and half a little worried she might be right.
The old wraparound porch creaks under my feet as I step into the sharp, piney air. Sunlight slants through the trees, instantly warming my face. I pause for a second, taking a deep breath, and for a brief moment, I actually feel alive, like all my broken pieces are being stitched back together by mountain air and the sound of birds chirping.
My sneakers crunch on gravel as I hit the trail. The world smells alive…wet earth, sap, and the kind of fresh you can’t buy in a bottle. I tap my phone, crank up my playlist, and let the music fill the spaces in my head that are usually occupied by endless work emails and anxiety meltdowns.
I’m actually enjoying myself, half-dancing to Lizzo, swinging my water bottle like a backup dancer in a music video nobody asked for. The deeper I go into the woods, the quieter it gets…just the wind rustling the dead leaves, the distant rush of water somewhere, and birds flying over the mossy rocks. For the first time in months, I’m surrounded by nothing but space, nature, and the steady beating of my heart.
Savannah’s warning replays in my mind:stay on the trail.I spot the trail markers, little wooden arrows nailed to trees. Honestly, it’s a little cute. I roll my eyes. “How hard can it be? It’s idiot-proof,” I mutter. “Even for me.”
That’s when the sky goes dark. Not just a little gray, but full-on, end-of-days, Old Testament, dark.
Because why not, it’s me. I have the luck of a black cat breaking a mirror under a ladder.
The first raindrop is cold and fat, hitting my nose. Then the sky opens up, dumping buckets of rain. I shriek, yank my hood up, and try to wipe the water from my eyes. My phone buzzes, probably Savannah with a meme, but it’s too late now. I can barely see my own hands, let alone a trail marker.
I spin around, searching. All I see is green, brown, and more green.Where the hell did the path go?All the trees blur together; it looks like a hundred dark shapes coming at me. My stomach drops so hard I actually feel dizzy.
Shit.
The markers are gone.Did I walk in a circle? Did the rain wash them away? Or did I just do the impossible and get lost on the world’s easiest hiking trail?
“Okay, Annie, keep it together,” I say, but my voice sounds strained; even I don’t recognize it. “Worst case, you get mud up your ass and a story for Insta.”
I try to laugh, but it comes out a little unhinged. Water seeps through my jacket, trailing my spine, down to where it’s starting to pool in my socks. My shoes squish with every step. My phone is no help; the screen fogs instantly, and there’s exactly zero bars of service. I’ve gone completely off the grid, literally.
I randomly pick a direction and go with it. I stumble, trying to squint through sheets of rain, my arms crossed tight over my chest. At least I’m not at work, right? At least I’m not formatting spreadsheets for my boss, who’sprobably allergic to sunlight. At least if I die out here, my mom will have to use my dental records and my mortifying playlist to identify me.
A crack of thunder splits through the air, so loud I nearly jump out of my skin. I hug myself tighter, shivering. “You wanted an adventure, Annie. Here’s your damn adventure.”
Just as the words leave my mouth, my toe gets caught on a root, and I go down, hands-first into the mud.
“Damn it!” I yell.
I’m already soaked, now muddy, shaking, and practically in tears.This is it. My embarrassing, soggy end. I’m going to die out here.
Then, through the blur, I see it…a glow. Warm, golden flickering just ahead. I get myself up and start moving toward it, hope and excitement rising in my chest.Please let it be real. Please don’t let it be some serial killer hideaway in the woods.
