Senior year of college had chewed the friend group up and spat them out. Group chats that used to buzz nonstop went dead for weeks, buried under a mountain of discussion boards and last-minute cram sessions. Now, finally, summer had arrived like a pardon from a life sentence. No more professors and no more deadlines for at least a couple of months. Just sweet, empty freedom stretching out before them.

Jacob saw an opportunity. His old man barely noticed him these days, too busy scheming investors and adding zeros to his bank account. So when Jacob "borrowed" the keys to the family's remote cabin, it wasn't even hard. A quick lie about crashing at a friend's place, a stolen key fob, and just like that the plan was set.

A weekend getaway in the woods with booze, weed, and hopefully a ton of stupid decisions. No rules. No exams. No cellphone service. No civilization. What could go wrong?

Derek's shitbox Honda Civic wasn't built for six people, but that didn't stop him from cramming everyone in like sardines. Three hours of sticky vinyl seats, elbows digging into ribs, and Jacob's obnoxious playlist blaring through blown-out speakers. The AC wheezed like it was on life support, doing nothing against the sweltering summer heat that left them all slick with sweat.

When they finally pulled up to the cabin, Lena was the first to check her phone. "No service," she muttered, holding it up like the device had personally betrayed her. The screen glared back at her, No Signal, confirming every creeping fear she'd swallowed down since Jacob first pitched this disaster-in-the-making.

"Relax," Derek snorted, already cracking open a beer. "That's the whole point; no bullshit, no distractions."

Jacob tossed her a lukewarm seltzer. "Yeah, Lena. Unwind."

Then more liquor came. Then the weed. And just like that, her anxiety didn't seem to matter much anymore.

The cabin had descended into the kind of chaos that only comes with too much cheap liquor and zero supervision. Lena was actually laughing, a rare sight, as she lost another round of Jacob's bullshit drinking game. Ryan and Mia were tangled together on the couch, his arm slung around her shoulders that made her roll her eyes but not shrug him off. And Derek? Derek was doing what Derek did best: lighting a joint and getting incredibly cross-faded.

Then the lights died. The power went out. A collective groan rose up in the dark.

"The fuck?" Jacob slurred, already stumbling toward the door. "Fuse box's outside. Be right back."

Mia, ever the den mother, clapped her hands. "Alright, everyone start looking around the cabin for candles or flashlights just in case that drunk idiot can't find the fuse box. Use your phone's flashlight if you have enough battery."

The group scattered, light from their screens bobbing through the shadows like drunken fireflies. Derek didn't bother pretending to search. He found you in the hallway, fingers closing around your wrist to yank you back toward him, stopping you in your tracks.

"Hey," he murmured, voice low trying to keep quiet in the hallway so the others wouldn't be able to hear him. "Can I talk to you about something?" His breath reeked of beer and weed.

Beyond the tree-line, Garett watched Jacob walk outside the cabin, drunkenly stumbling while searching for the fuse box. Garett didn't move yet, just watching.