James, approximately one year before the disappearance

James hunched over his phone on his bed staring at the footage of Heritage Hall, his back up against the wall. How was he going to make a video out of this?

If the stories were true, at least four ghosts haunted the old antebellum mansion – the most famous being a woman and baby that died during childbirth in the master bedroom long ago. Employees said they heard the baby's cries echoing throughout the house, and some people even claimed to see a ghostly woman wandering around upstairs. The house itself used to be a plantation home with over a hundred slaves, so who knows what else happened there? No wonder it was haunted.

But what did he find? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He should've expected it. Saturday morning tours weren't exactly prime hours for ghost hunting, but it was the only time he could sneak off with the truck. He sighed and ran a hand over his short brown hair. There must be a way to salvage the footage. Maybe as part of an ongoing series? He'd still need to find a way to go back, though. After dark, this time.

He chewed on the edge of his nail. His eight or so viewers weren't exactly demanding updates, so it's not like it mattered. Of course, without good content, he'd never get more. How could he even hope to grow the channel with footage like this?

"Jimmy!" his brother Bo shouted, slamming the front door to the house. James dropped the phone, startled. His eyes darted to the half-open window. Was there time to slip out? He heard someone giggle.

"Jimmy!" Bo yelled again, flinging the door open and busting in like a Boomer on black Friday. Bo was freakishly large for a high school senior, spending almost all his time playing football or lifting. With the steroids he ordered off the gym bros on TikTok, he'd been bulking out like the Hulk. And just like the Hulk, he had anger issues.

"Dad needs you to run to the store!" Bo flung the car keys at James, narrowly missing his head. They skittered across the floor out of reach. Half hiding behind Bo was some basic blonde he'd seen a couple of times before. Tracy or Stephanie or something.

Unlike his older brother, James was only medium height and wiry, with a slight build. In contrast to his brother's square jaw, his was narrow and pointed. As for sports? He had little interest besides soccer, and even then, he'd just played with the neighborhood kids. It'd been years since he touched a ball outside of gym class.

"Can't you go? I'm working here," he said, looking back down at his phone.

"Aw, making your little movies again," he sneered. "When you gonna grow out of that, huh?" He turned to the girl and jerked his thumb at James. "Thinks he's going to be a big YouTube influencer." She peered into the bedroom.

"Content creator, not influencer," he muttered, rolling off the bed and snatching the keys off the floor.

Bo and James had shared a bedroom his whole life. Actually, shared was a generous word. It was Bo's bedroom; James just slept there. Bo's sports trophies sprawled across the room with pictures of University of Georgia Bulldogs football players and Falcons merch. The wall was decorated with glossy posters of girls wearing more makeup than clothing, just the way his brother liked it.

In James's corner of the room, the only decor was the dirty laundry pile next to his mattress on the floor.

The girl playfully hit Bo. "Hey, you never know. Maybe he'll make it big and make like a million dollars? You should be sweet to him."

Bo gave her an indulgent smile and snaked his arm around her shoulder, hand dangling just above her chest. "You should be sweet to me." He spared a quick glance in his brother's direction. "What are you waiting for, perv?"

"What do we even need at the store?" James asked, pulling a gray t-shirt over his head. He shoved the keys in the pocket of his cargo shorts.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." Bo pulled Trixie or whatever into the room as James grabbed his phone and headed out.

"Don't rush back," Bo called over his shoulder, kicking the bedroom door shut. James suppressed a gag as the girl squealed. Just one more year. His brother should leave for college next summer, hopefully giving him a couple of years of peace and quiet, or at least as much peace as he could get with his dad in the house.

He slid into the driver's seat of the beat-up Chevy they got at auction, turning it over a couple times before the ignition caught. It needed some work, but with his brother monopolizing the truck, it was difficult to find the time. He pulled out of the dirt driveway and flipped on the radio, but only a country station and some preacher on talk radio came through the static. Forget it. He flipped it off and rolled down the window to let in the breeze. The mid-afternoon sun warmed his body, and he relaxed into the seat. Just as well he'd been kicked out. James hated the house, only really hanging around when his brother and father were out.

Since he had the time, he headed to the park to continue editing his video. In September, the weather in his small Georgia town usually continued to be hot and stifling, but today he felt a touch of fall in the air. He hopped out and walked toward his favorite Magnolia tree, headed to a secluded bench tucked under the branches. At this time of day, the park was mainly filled with children after school, running feral over the playground while their parents ignored them. A few people walked their dogs or ran laps.

As he came around the back side of the Magnolia, he discovered another teenage boy was already sitting on the bench, engrossed in a video on his phone. The boy looked about his age, but larger than James, wearing a plain white T-shirt under a dark blue hoodie in spite of the warmth of the day. His jeans looked worn, his Nikes dusty. But with his shaggy blonde hair, he was kind of cute in a scruffy way.

Should he still sit down? As James hesitated, the boy's video cut off and he looked up. "What?"

"Sorry?" James said.

"You were staring." The boy stared back. James caught a hint of something he couldn't quite place in the boy's gaze.

He cleared his throat. "You're, um, you're in my spot."

"Bruh. Like you own this or something?"

"Oh, uh, no. I just usually sit here."

The boy stared at him blankly.

James took a half step forward. He knew he should just leave, but for some reason, he didn't want to. "So can I sit down?"

"Free world."

"Thanks." James perched at the edge of the seat. The boy stared at him for a moment, then shook his head and went back to his phone.

James fumbled to get his phone out of his pocket, wincing as it dropped to the ground. He scooped it up and opened his video. Paralyzed, he stared at the frozen footage. Without earbuds, he wouldn't be able to edit anything sitting next to this guy, but he couldn't exactly move and go somewhere else now. He scrolled through his footage, doing anything to appear busy. After a couple of minutes, he became aware of the video the other boy was watching. That guy didn't care if he was blaring his sound.

"Is that on the Waverly Hills Sanatorium?"

"Huh?" the boy said, looking over at James again.

"The Waverly Hills Sanatorium. That's what the video's about right?"

"Yo, why?" He paused the video and glowered at him.

James shrugged. "Just wondering if you've been there."

"Why are you all up in my business?"

James held up his hands. "I couldn't help overhearing. I make ghost-hunting videos for a living, so I was interested."

"You do ghost-hunting videos for a living? No cap?"

"Yeah, I mean, I totally do make videos. Like, I'm working on one about Heritage Hall right now... I just don't make any money. Yet."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Figures."

"At least I'm trying. I thought if I started making videos in high school, I might have a following by the time I graduate." James got up quickly. "You know what, forget it. Sorry I bothered you."

"Hold up."

James paused but didn't turn around.

"You really working on a video about Heritage Hall?"

"Why?"

"You goin' out there or already been?"

"Both. I didn't get enough footage the first time, so I'm thinking 'bout going back." James turned around and looked at the guy. He stood up and hoisted a huge Army Surplus pack over his shoulder that James hadn't noticed before. "Do you go to school here? I haven't seen you around."

"Passing through, mostly. Just got a job here, so I might stick around a while."

"Where?" James asked.

"Working on a house up the road."

"Like construction?"

"More like rehab. The house was trashed. I'm part of the fix-up crew."

"You're done school then?"

The boy set the pack down on the bench. He reached up his right hand and scratched a spot in the middle of his back. "Finished early."

"Oh," James said. He studied the guy for a minute. His cheekbones stood out, sharp against his thin face. "So do you want to go?"

"To school? Why'd I want to do that?"

"No, I meant do you wanna come with me to Heritage Hall when I go back."

"That'd be clutch. I'm down." He shifted his weight and fixed his gaze at a rock on the ground.

"Okay, cool. My name is James." He stuck out his hand, and the other guy slapped it, looking up with a grin.

"I'm Austin."