Chapter 1 Arrival

The car's engine hummed steadily, a monotonous backdrop to the whirlwind in my head. I rested my forehead against the cool window glass, my breath fogging the surface as I stared out at the blurred, unfamiliar landscape. My headphones hung loosely around my neck, playing a song I barely recognized anymore. It had once been a favorite, but now it was just another relic of the life I'd left behind-a life that felt impossibly far away.

It had been a year since Mom died. A year since everything that mattered unraveled. Grief wasn't something you got over, no matter how many people told you it would get better. Instead, it lingered, like a fog that never quite lifted, dulling everything I once loved. School used to be a haven, a place where I could lose myself in books and laughter, but now it was just a gauntlet I survived day by day. Friends grew distant, unsure of what to say, and I didn't blame them. I wasn't the same Evelyn Hart they used to know.

When Dad suggested moving, I fought him on it. How could I leave the house where Mom's voice still echoed, where her favorite coffee mug sat on the shelf, untouched? But Dad insisted-said Blackwood would be a fresh start for both of us, that maybe I could "find my feet" here. I didn't believe him, but part of me hoped he might be right. I couldn't keep drifting through the days like this.

As we rounded another curve, the world outside shifted. The foggy woods loomed ahead, a dense and shadowy forest that seemed to stretch forever. The trees were impossibly tall, their twisted branches tangling like ancient fingers, shrouded in mist. Everything about the forest felt alive, but not in the way that comforted me. It was the kind of alive that made my stomach tighten, like the woods were watching us, waiting. Even the morning air seemed to hold its breath.

For a moment, I forgot my worries and just stared. The fog curled low around the trunks, weaving through the undergrowth in a way that was almost hypnotic. The forest looked like something out of a storybook, but not the kind with happy endings. It was beautiful, eerie, and... unsettling.

I glanced ahead, where the town of Blackwood began to emerge from the shadows. From a distance, it seemed like it belonged to another time. There were scattered rooftops peeking out from the trees, some of them sagging with age. The streets looked narrow, lined with stone and dotted with old-fashioned cottages that felt more like secrets than homes. It was nothing like the city we'd left behind-no towering glass buildings, no honking horns, no crowds of people rushing nowhere. Here, everything was still, quiet. Too quiet.

My fingers idly traced patterns on the glass as I stared into the trees. Then, without warning, a sound cut through the stillness-a long, low howl that sent a shiver racing down my spine. It was close, too close. My heart jumped, and I yanked my head back from the window, the cool air suddenly feeling too cold against my skin.

"Evelyn?" Dad's voice pulled me back. I turned to see him glance at me, his eyes creased with concern. "You okay?"

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing. "Did you hear that?" My voice came out shaky, and I hated how small it sounded.

"Hear what?" He slowed the car slightly, his eyes darting toward the forest as though looking for whatever had startled me. "I didn't hear anything."

My heart was still pounding, but his calm expression made me question what I'd heard. "It... it was a howl," I said quietly, unsure of myself now. "Like a wolf or something."

Dad raised an eyebrow but shook his head. "I didn't hear a thing. Probably just your imagination," he said, his tone light as if to reassure me. "Or maybe the wind. These old forests can play tricks on you."

I nodded, forcing a small, shaky smile. "Yeah... probably." But deep down, I wasn't convinced. That sound hadn't been my imagination. It had been too real, too close. Still, I leaned back into my seat and closed my eyes, letting the steady motion of the car try to calm me.

As we continued into town, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The woods blurred past us, their secrets hidden in the fog, and Blackwood drew closer. I told myself it was nothing-that Dad was right and my mind was just playing tricks on me. But I couldn't stop glancing back at the forest, half-expecting to see something staring back.