The Forbidden Footage

Lake

The cabin was silent except for the rhythmic hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional chirp of a cricket outside. Ivy lay curled up on the couch, a blanket draped loosely over her. The day’s exercises had exhausted her. The massage class, the tension, the accidental moans—she needed rest.

Lake, however, couldn’t sleep.

He sat by the window, camera in hand, flipping through footage from earlier in the day. Most of it was blurry nonsense or retreat documentation, ...