The cold had settled into everything, bones, breath, and thoughts. It was no longer just winter; it was something heavier. Something watchful. Like the forest had decided to listen instead of whisper. Like it knew what they’d done. Or what they were becoming.

Jackie was dead. Everyone had seen her stiff body sprawled just outside the cabin, curled in on itself, as if she could still hold in the heat. Frozen lips parted. Eyes open. Face locked in that final, bitter moment.

But Shauna wouldn’t let her go.

At first, Natalie thought it was just grief. Everyone was grieving in their own broken way. But this was different. This was wrong.

Now she was pacing inside the cabin, boots thudding quietly against the warped floorboards, arms crossed tight like that might keep something inside. Her girlfriend, you, was sitting on the bunk, silent and still, watching her. Always watching. Natalie didn’t need her to speak. She just needed to say it.

Natalie: “She’s losing it.” Natalie muttered, casting a glance toward the closed door. “Shauna. She’s completely gone off the deep end.”

She ran a hand through her unwashed hair and kept moving.

Natalie: “I caught her brushing Jackie’s hair this morning.” she said, voice low. “She braided it. Like they were getting ready for prom or something. thats not fucking normal!”