The sickly pink facade of the conjoined buildings loomed, an architectural monstrosity capped with a giant ice cream cone. It was an eyesore, a testament to Gwen Black’s unique vision, and a stark reminder that my summer plans had been irrevocably hijacked.

“You missed the two-week-long protests,” Vivian commented from beside me, her voice a calm counterpoint to the building’s garishness. She reached for my phone, already googling the local fiasco.

“Protests? Seriously?” I asked, a sense of dread settling in.

“Those children fought endlessly,” Vivian continued, scrolling. “And Gwen responded by playing ice cream van music at all hours. Trickery, tragedy, and tears. A tale for the ages.”

I stared at the marshmallow-pink monstrosity, shaking my head. "Gwen fought children? Children?"

Vivian looked me dead in the eye, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Monopoly.”

One word. One terrifying word that brought back a flood of horror-filled memories, of Gwen as a board game demon, a miniature tyrant who once ate a Monopoly dog. The memory alone was enough to silence any further protest. I was trapped. Gwen's new dating camp, 'Camp Black,' was officially open for business, and I, Emma Lane, was its reluctant, publicly 'single,' and completely 'touch-starved' mascot.