“Your turn, Harper,” Jake said, spinning the empty soda bottle on the worn wooden floor of the cabin. The flickering light from the fireplace cast long shadows across the room, and the bottle wobbled before slowing to a stop, pointing directly at him. Harper raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smile. “Lucky me,” she said, leaning forward.

Harper was the kind of girl who always seemed to command attention without trying. Her dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and her green eyes sparkled with mischief. She wore a fitted sweater that hugged her curves, and her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the fire. Jake, on the other hand, was all sharp angles and nervous energy, his flannel shirt slightly too big on his lean frame. They’d known each other for years, but tonight felt different—charged, like the air before a storm.

As Harper moved closer, the bottle suddenly spun again on its own, faster and faster, until it stopped abruptly, pointing at the empty chair in the corner. The room fell silent, the crackling fire the only sound. Jake’s eyes widened. “Uh, Harper,” he said, his voice low. “Did you see that?” She froze, her smile fading as a cold draft swept through the room. “Yeah,” she whispered. “But I don’t think we’re alone anymore.”