Shonee's POV

The hour and fourteen minutes' drive up to Lynnfield NY was... filled with anxiety, mostly because it felt like we were heading into a lion's den. And as Jordin's white Toyota Prius pulled up at the end of a dirt road, that anxiety-filled tension increased tenfold.

"Why are we stopping?" James poked his head in between us from the backseat. "This cannot be the place."

The moment the words left his mouth, the GPS echoed: 'You have arrived at your destination.'

"Ok, this has got to be some mistake." My head turned to the window on my right. "There's nothing here. Not a single building. We're in the middle of nowhere."

James frowned. "Did you miss a turn, Jordin?"

"No!" She immediately snapped in her defence. "I followed all the instructions and did everything the dumb GPS told me to do. This is the place!"

"Maybe you typed in the wrong address."

"James, I swear to God..."

As the two began to bicker, I opened my door and stepped out, the warm afternoon breeze hitting me square in the face.

The GPS had led us up a hill filled with nothing but dry grass for miles. I had no idea a place like this existed in New York. I walked further, strolling up to the tip of the hill, disturbing a couple of dandelion puffballs in the process.

The sound of mooing cows reached my ears, and then a small farm, a few meters away from the hill, came into view. My eyes widened, and I quickly turned back, heading straight for the car.

I yanked the door open and climbed in. "Guys!" My eyebrows dipped low at the sight of my best friends caught in a weird tangle. "What are you doing?"

"Teaching him a lesson." Jordin had pushed her seat back and was forcefully yanking James's hair. She only released him when he yelped in pain.

"Yeow!" He fell into the backseat.

With a smug smile, Jordin made a show of dusting her hands, then brought her attention to me. "So what'd you find?"

"There's a small farm at the bottom of the hill. I think that's the place we're looking for."

"See what a proactive person does, James." Jordin pulled her seat forward. "They look for solutions and answers instead of blaming the person who drove them!"

"Just shut up and drive," James murmured, rubbing his head.

She set the car in motion, carefully descending the hill and driving us around its base to the farm. Jordin parked the car a few feet away from the fence surrounding the property, and we all stepped out, surveying the area. It looked very old and worn out for a dairy farm, making me wonder if people actually lived or worked here.

We let ourselves through the wooden fence gate, attracting a few moos from the nearby cows grazing in their pens. Not far off was a barn and three rusty silos that looked like they had seen better days. On the left was an old farmhouse with a couple of rusted milk canisters in front.

"Ok, this place is starting to give me the creeps." Jordin pushed her hands into the pockets of her hoodie.

I couldn't help but agree. Everything screamed horror movie, and the way no one had come to see or greet us was a little... strange. Taking in a deep breath, I walked up to the farmhouse, noticing the address on the rusted mailbox on one of the entryway pillars. "Guys, look. It's the address."

"Oh yeah..." James drew closer. "1509 Lynnfield, New York. This is definitely the place."

I climbed up the short staircase onto the porch, ignoring the creaking floorboards beneath my shoes. James followed suit, but Jordin opted to stay at the foot of the stairs. She looked like she wanted to bolt any moment from now.

My knuckles rapped against the old trapdoor. The rhythmic contact released a faint cloud of dust from the netting. I stepped back, waiting for a response, but nothing came through. So I knocked a second and third time. James, tired of waiting, cupped a hand over the glass window, trying to steal a peek inside. "I don't think anyon—"

"Freeze or I shoot!"

The voice startled us so much that Jordin toppled over the stairs in her haste to turn around.

Behind her was an old woman, probably in her late sixties, dressed in a pair of jean overalls and pointing a long rifle at us. The sight of the weapon had all of us lifting our hands up in surrender, and who could blame us? She held the gun in a manner that screamed years of experience.

"Who the heck are you three, and what are you doing trespassing on my property?" She bellowed out.

"We're uuhh..." My lips trembled in fear but I pushed myself to speak. "We-we're looking for someone. Perhaps you've heard of him; his name is Michael Percy."

"I have no idea who that is." She drew closer with the gun, and my heart jumped. Jordin stumbled backwards.

"What about Johnson Stewart?" James hurriedly asked, and that seemed to have piqued the old woman's curiosity because she lowered the gun slightly.

"Why are you kids looking for a man who died a year ago?"

A year? I shared a look with my friends. Michael's death was barely six months ago. If this old woman thinks he died a year ago, then she has no idea that Michael/Johnson has been switching identities.

She lowered the gun fully, sensing our surprise at the news. "You three don't know about it, do you?"

When we all shook our heads, she released a sigh. "Sorry to break it to you this way, but Johnson is dead. Poor kid perished in a car accident in 2023, leaving behind his wife and son."

"Wait, a wife and a son?" I moved toward the woman. "You mean he had a family?"

"Yeah, they used to live in the house you're standing in right now." She pointed her rifle at the porch we currently occupied.

My gaze flickered to the front door. That's why the anonymous tipper gave us this address.

"So where are they?" Jordin quizzed; all traces of fear were gone. "His wife and son, I mean."

"Took off a couple of months back."

"Took off to where?" James asked.

"No idea." She simply shrugged. "All Melanie told us was she couldn't stay here any longer. So she packed up and left with Ben."

"Ben?" My eyebrows flew up. "Is that the name of her son, Ben?"

"Yeah, Benjamin Stewart. I was there when they named him."

My brain began to spiral. There was no way this could be a coincidence. Absolutely no way. "Ma'am, we would really appreciate it if you could tell us everything you know about Johnson and his family."

She quirked up an eyebrow in astonishment. "Everything?"

"Everything."