The ship groaned beneath us, a death rattle against the tumultuous waves. Anna, Bell, and I, our faces illuminated by the dying embers of the sunset, clung to the hope that our small vessel could withstand the ocean's fury. Then, a colossal wave, an endless, rolling mountain of water, bore down on us. We screamed, our voices swallowed by the wind, as the ship shuddered, water pouring in.

“Double-lash everything!” I yelled, though my voice was a tremor. “We need to find land!”

Bell frantically unfolded the map. Her face, pale in the fading light, conveyed the grim truth: nothing. No island. No shelter. Despair clawed at my throat, tears burning behind my eyes. This was it. Our end.

But then, a dark, hidden key to an unknown place appeared—Norwood. An island unlisted, shrouded in secrecy. My gut screamed, a chilling premonition. “Guys, I don’t feel right about this place,” I pleaded, my voice barely a whisper against the rising wind.

Bell and Anna, desperate, rebuked me. “Irene, be thankful! We’re lucky to find shelter!”

They were right. Survival trumped all else. As our battered boat limped towards the ominous, red-tinged shore, a chilling gust slapped my cheek. A warning. A shiver traced its way down my spine, a cold dread that clung to me even as my feet touched solid ground. I followed them, my eyes darting nervously, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. We were here. And I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that this was a mistake.