Olivia’s POV

The room was shrouded in shadow, its dim light casting eerie shapes across the walls. The furniture was old and weathered, with a rugged, almost primitive quality.

Mounted on the wall was a taxidermied stag’s head, its glassy eyes staring blankly into the gloom, and an ancient shotgun hung nearby, its presence unsettling despite my hope that it was merely decorative.

Mia sat at the wooden table, her small frame trembling, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. When she saw ...