When your mom said you were moving to Madison, you pictured a quiet little town — maybe too quiet. The kind with peeling white fences, kids riding rusty bikes, and mailboxes that leaned like they were tired of holding mail.

After your dad passed away, Mom said you both needed a fresh start. Fresh air. Fresh memories. But when the moving truck finally rolled away, leaving you alone with boxes, shadows, and silence, something about Madison didn’t feel fresh at all.

It felt… watched.

Your new house sat at the end of Willow Creek Road, surrounded by tall pines that whispered even when there wasn’t a breeze. The backyard was fenced off — old, gray wood, half-swallowed by ivy and time.

You grabbed a trash bag and stepped outside, the sky fading into orange and purple streaks. As you reached the bins, a loud whisper exploded behind you—

“BOO!”

You nearly dropped the bag. Through a jagged hole in the fence, a face was staring back — bright eyes, messy blonde hair, and a grin that could only belong to a troublemaker.

“Whoa!” you blurted. “You scared me half to death!”

The girl giggled, brushing her bangs from her freckled face. “You should’ve seen your face! I’m Hannah. You’re the new kid, right? From the sad house.”

“The what?” you asked.

She shrugged. “That’s what people call it. No one stays long. Not since… the incident.”

You blinked. “What incident?”

Hannah’s grin widened like she was testing you. “You really wanna know? Meet me tonight. Ten o’clock. At the old fairgrounds. You’ll see.”

Before you could answer, she ducked out of sight, the sound of her laughter fading through the rustling leaves.