“Well, I’m sending them to myself now,” I replied, trying to keep my voice light. “Because this one is going to live on forever.”
It was a photo of Boone hauling me over his shoulder, mid-sprint toward the swimming hole. I was screaming, my face frozen in a ridiculous expression of panic and laughter.
When I pulled up my contact to send the pictures, another photo caught my eye.
It was my contact image on Logan’s phone.
Me and him, maybe nine or ten years old. I was holding his face against mine, both of us grinning like lunatics. Crooked teeth. Sticky cheeks. What looked like Italian ice smeared around our mouths.
I refused to let this warmth unfurling in my chest take over. Instead, I sent the pictures, exited out of what I‘d been looking through, and handed him back his phone.
Where I hoped to find something deeper, all I found was evidence to prove everything I already knew to be true.
Logan was pure, as wholesome as they come, and that made my heart flutter in recognition, in calming.
21
ELLIE
“Where the hell did you bring us?” Logan asked, slipping his credit card back into his wallet as we passed through the rusted turnstiles of the amusement park.
This place looked completely abandoned. Snack stands leaned to one side like they were about to give out. In the distance, the rides groaned on creaking wooden tracks, practically begging us not to trust them. I turned to him with a grin, wide and unrepentant.
“This looks more haunted than fun. I mean, come on,” he said, gesturing toward a cluster of park actors huddled near the entrance. “Even their uniforms are falling apart.”
He wasn’t wrong. The employees’ shirts were riddled with holes and dark, strange stains. From an outside perspective, someone could easily mistake this for an abandoned carnival instead of an active park.
But that was thepoint.
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, tapping his bicep as we walked past the group. Logan couldn’t help but stare, his eyes wide with disbelief. “It’s supposed to look like this. It’s all part of the story.It’s a haunted theme park, designed to feel broken, abandoned. It adds to the thrill.”
Logan glanced around again, this time with new eyes. I followed his gaze. Despite the rundown aesthetic, the place was packed. Families, couples, groups of teenagers filled every inch of space, winding in and out of snaking lines for rides and attractions.
Even when we passed the Dead Man’s Drop, the estimated wait time on the cracked sign read150 minutes, and no one seemed deterred.
I’d always loved horror. There was something magnetic about things left behind. About forgotten places with lingering stories etched into their bones. This park was a love letter to all of that—designed chaos, immersive storytelling. Each ride had a backstory, every food stand a twisted theme. Even the staff, all dedicated actors, were in full character. Groaning, limping, speaking in whispers or riddles to sell the fantasy.
As a kid, Halloween had always been my favorite holiday. My costumes were never the cute kind, and as I got older, they definitely weren’t the “sexy” kind either. I always went for the characters—the creepier, the better. Freddy Krueger. A walker fromThe Walking Dead.Monsters over princesses every time.
“I should’ve known,” Logan said with a laugh, looking down at me as I grinned up at him. “You and your horror obsession.”
“The minute I saw this place online, I wasn’t saying no.”
“Well, Ace,” he said, tipping his head toward me with that familiar smirk, “let’s make all your spooky dreams come true.”
I linked my arm through his and picked up the pace, tugging him with me as we headed toward the back of the park for our first ride of the day, The Widow’s Drop.
“That was wild!”I shouted, grabbing Logan by the biceps and bouncing on my toes with giddy energy. “I mean, that drop! My heart was in my ears. Feel!”
I grabbed his hand and pressed it to my chest, letting him feel the rapid rhythm beneath my ribs. The ride had taken us through a dimly lit haunted house where actors lunged out from the shadows, trying to get screams from even the bravest guests. But it was the final drop, a stomach-twisting freefall, that had nearly done me in. I wasn’t sure if I laughed or screamed the whole way down.
The sun beat down on us as we stood outside, both still riding the high.
“The look on your face in the picture!” Logan doubled over laughing, and I shot him a mock-glare that warned,don’t you dare,though I couldn’t stop my own laughter from spilling out.
“There was no way I wasn’t buying that,” he said, holding up the ride photo in triumph.
I leaned in to look—and yep, it was as ridiculous as he said. We were side by side, both mid-scream, my hands latched around his arm like a lifeline.
