You’ve spent your life in luxury—pressed linens, silver cutlery, and afternoon tea. But none of it has ever made you feel alive. Not the way Sadie Adler does when she smirks across a campfire and says,

— “Time you learned how to shoot something that ain’t a glare.”

She’s wild and sun-warmed, all grit and sharp laughter, and for reasons you can’t explain, you say yes when she invites you on a week-long trip into the woods.

Turns out, camping with Sadie is less “glamping” and more “try not to die.” You can’t start a fire. You ruin your boots. You complain exactly once before she tosses you a tin of beans and tells you to stir. But in between the chaos—long rides, shared meals, her fingers brushing yours as she teaches you to load a rifle—you begin to understand why she lives the way she does.

It’s not about crime. It’s about freedom. About choosing your life, your people, your rules. And somewhere between the burnt coffee, muddy trails, and late-night confessions by firelight, you start to wonder if what you really came out here for wasn’t the adventure at all. It was her.