A voice broke through the fog of Sylvie’s mind.

“Sylvie... Sylvie, wake up.”

She jolted upright, her heart racing as though she’d been dragged from the depths of a nightmare. Her hands instinctively grabbed for the edges of her seat, steadying herself as the small boat beneath her rocked in protest. The engine hummed and rumbled, vibrating beneath her feet.

She blinked, disoriented, and rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I was kind of...” Her voice trailed off, the remnants of her dream still clinging to her like a shadow.

Adrian’s voice cut through her haze, soft but filled with concern. “Mom and Dad again?”

Sylvie’s chest tightened. She nodded, her throat constricting as she tried to push back the emotions threatening to surface.

“Yeah... just hard to believe they’re really gone.” Her voice cracked slightly, and she shook her head, as if trying to physically dispel the memories.

Adrian gave her a look, his own grief mirrored in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

Sylvie tried to gather her thoughts, forcing herself back into the present. She glanced at Adrian.

“Did you say something?”

He shook his head. “Not me. Grandpa said, ‘Hold on, or you’ll fall out of the boat.’”

Sylvie looked toward the front of the boat, where their grandfather stood, gripping the wheel with weathered hands. The old man’s back was straight, his posture steady despite the rocking waves. He glanced back briefly, his gruff voice carrying over the sound of the motor.

“We’ll reach the house in just a couple of minutes.”

The expanse of water stretched out around them, endless and quiet. The sky was painted in hues of soft pink and orange, the sun dipping toward the horizon. It should have been beautiful, peaceful even, but Sylvie couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on her chest.

Adrian slumped beside her, his gaze fixed on some far-off point in the distance. His face was pale, tired, his shoulders hunched like he was carrying the weight of the world. Sylvie hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

She mustered a weak smile. “Hey, I know these past few weeks have been... hard.”

Adrian let out a hollow laugh, the sound bitter and humorless. “Understatement of the century.”

Sylvie’s smile faltered, but she didn’t let go of his shoulder.

“I mean it,” she said softly.

“I’ve got two whole months to help you get settled at Grandma’s place before I go back to college. Maybe once we drop off our stuff, we can do something. You know, just the two of us.”

Adrian finally turned to look at her, his expression blank but his eyes sharp.

“Like what? We’re in the literal middle of nowhere, Sylvie.”

She gave him a pointed look. “It’s not nowhere. It’s... quiet.”

“It’s nowhere,” Adrian shot back, crossing his arms.

She would make this work. Somehow, she would make things okay for him. They were all each other had left.

Sylvie leaned forward, her enthusiasm bubbling despite the tension.

“There must be something fun to do around here,” she said.

“We could go exploring, swimming? We’re surrounded by unspoiled wilderness! I bet there are some gorgeous hiking trails or—”

Her words were cut off by a sharp voice from the front of the boat.

“You’ll be doing no such thing,” Grandpa said, his tone gruff and unyielding. He didn’t even turn to look at her, keeping his eyes firmly on the water ahead.

“I won’t have you kids wandering off and getting into trouble. This ain’t a vacation. As long as you’re living in my house, you’ll abide by my rules.”

Adrian bristled immediately, his voice sharp with defiance.

“Says who? Huh?”

Grandpa let out a humorless chuckle, finally glancing over his shoulder at Adrian.

“Says the court that made me your legal guardian. Don’t like it? Take it up with the state.”

Sylvie’s face flushed with anger. Her grip on the edge of the boat tightened as she shot to her feet, her voice trembling with barely contained rage.

“Hey, get off his case! You think this is easy for us? Leaving our whole life behind to move in with a grandparent we’ve never even met?”

Grandpa’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening.

“Maybe you’d rather go live with your deadbeat dad in Montreal,” he said coldly.

Sylvie froze, her heart lurching at the mention of him. She spoke in a low, venomous whisper.

“What? The scumbag who walked out on me and Mom when I was little? That man isn’t my dad. Ryan was the one who was there for me—for both of us. He was as much my dad as he was Adrian’s. And now...”

Her voice broke, the words catching in her throat. She trailed off, unable to finish, her chest heaving as she fought to keep the tears at bay.

A tense silence settled over the boat, heavy and oppressive. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull and the low hum of the motor. Adrian stared down at his hands, his knuckles white as he clenched them tightly in his lap. Grandpa’s face was unreadable, his gaze fixed ahead as if the conversation hadn’t happened at all.

The boat continued to cut through the water, and slowly, the dense fog began to lift. Sylvie wiped at her eyes and looked up, blinking as the sight before her came into focus.

A small town emerged on the far shore, bathed in golden sunlight. It was picturesque, almost unreal, with colorful houses dotting the shoreline and a quaint little harbor filled with boats. Lush greenery surrounded the town, and the distant hills seemed to glow under the warm rays of the sun.

Adrian sat up straighter, his eyes wide as he took in the view. Even Sylvie felt a small flicker of awe despite the knot of emotions twisting inside her. For a moment, she forgot her anger, her sadness, and just stared.

Grandpa slowed the boat as they neared the dock, his voice cutting through the quiet.

“Welcome to Sunshine Grove,” he said, his tone flat but almost begrudgingly proud.

Sylvie glanced at Adrian, who was still staring at the town in wonder. She let out a slow breath, the weight of the last few weeks still heavy on her shoulders. Maybe this place would be a fresh start for them. Or maybe it would just be another battle waiting to happen.

Either way, there was no turning back now.

...

A short while later, the boat docked in front of a small house nestled on the shore of the lake. The house was modest, its peeling paint and weathered wood speaking of years gone by. Surrounding it was an overgrown yard with wildflowers poking through patches of tall grass. Despite its worn exterior, there was something quaint about it—a charm hidden beneath the layers of time.

Sylvie stepped off the boat, taking it all in. The lake glimmered behind them, the water catching the sunlight like shards of glass. Grandpa led the way, grumbling as he hefted one of Adrian’s bags over his shoulder.

The inside of the house was dim, a stark contrast to the bright world outside. Dust floated lazily through beams of light filtering in from the windows, and the air smelled of stale age, like forgotten memories locked away for too long. The room was cluttered with knickknacks, books, and furniture that looked like it had survived several generations.

Sylvie glanced around, her hands brushing a thick layer of dust from the arm of a faded couch.

“So, this is where Mom grew up?” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. Despite its untidy state, there was something comforting about the space. She smiled faintly.

“It’s so cozy. I can’t wait to curl up on that couch with a good book.”

Grandpa, already heading toward the narrow staircase at the back of the room, snorted.

“Just don’t expect a mint on your pillow,” he said dryly.

Sylvie rolled her eyes as Adrian nudged her with his elbow.

“Looks like our room’s that way,” he said, nodding toward their grandfather trudging up the stairs.

She smirked. “Or he’s gonna throw our stuff on the roof.”

Adrian cracked a small smile as he picked up his bag and followed Grandpa. Sylvie lingered for a moment, letting her eyes wander over the room. The shelves were lined with strange objects—odd trinkets, old books, and framed photos of people she didn’t recognize. Everything felt heavy with history, like the house was trying to tell her a story she wasn’t ready to hear yet.

Just then, a door creaked open at the far end of the room. A man stepped out, carrying a clipboard in one hand. He was in his mid-twenties, tall and lean, with dark curls falling across his forehead. His eyes scanned the room before landing on Sylvie.

“Hey, Edgar, you in here?” he called out casually.

“Someone just called with a—” He stopped mid-sentence as his gaze settled on her. His expression brightened instantly, his tone shifting.

“Oh, hi! You must be Sylvie.”

Sylvie blinked, caught off guard. “Do I... know you?”

The man grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Why? Do I look familiar? Maybe we met in a previous life?”

She couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking her head.

“I don’t know about that... but you do seem to know my name.”

“Right! Sorry, that probably sounded super weird.” He stepped forward and extended his hand.

“I’m Korban. Edgar hired me to work as a mechanic at his boat shop a few months back. He mentioned he’d be picking you guys up today.”

Sylvie shook his hand, noting his warm smile and easygoing demeanor. He gestured toward the shelves cluttered with odd objects.

“So, what do you think? Enjoying the Museum of Dusty Oddities?”

She chuckled, glancing at the eclectic collection.

“Yeah... it’s pretty wild. Where did all this stuff come from?”

Korban shrugged, his grin widening.

“Who knows? Edgar’s not the most talkative guy. I mostly just make stuff up to entertain myself. Over there, we’ve got the ‘Discarded Robot Eyeball,’ and right next to it, the ‘Weird Leather Tome: Probably Cursed.’”

Sylvie laughed, a genuine sound that felt rare these days.

“I’ll keep my distance from the tome, then.”

Korban tilted his head, his smile softening.

“Good call. You never know what kind of ancient spirit might be hanging around in a place like this.”

For a moment, the heavy weight Sylvie had been carrying since they arrived felt just a little bit lighter.

Korban’s grin widened as he pointed toward a tall, rectangular case standing in the corner of the room.

“This one’s got me stumped, though.”

Sylvie turned her head, her curiosity piqued. She stepped closer, squinting at the dirty glass that obscured whatever was inside. Behind it, a humanoid shape loomed, shadowy and indistinct.

“Wow,” she breathed, her eyes widening. “What is it? Some kind of armor?”

Korban shrugged, leaning against the edge of a nearby table.

“Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is Edgar won’t talk about it. Says it’s off-limits. And the case? It’s locked with some kind of impossible puzzle mechanism.”

He ran a hand through his hair in mock frustration.

“Seriously, I eat puzzle games for breakfast, and I don’t even know where to start with this thing. It’s like someone built it to drive people insane.”

Sylvie leaned in closer, her fingers brushing the intricate iron locks. Strange symbols were engraved along the edges, their meanings as enigmatic as the contents of the case itself. She frowned, her brow furrowing in thought. “Something’s missing,” she murmured, almost to herself.

The sound of heavy footsteps descending the stairs made her jump. She quickly snatched her hand away from the case and turned around just as her grandpa entered the room. His gaze shifted to Korban, who straightened up and greeted him with an easy smile.

“Hey, Edgar,” Korban said casually.

“Got a call from the other side of the lake while you were out. Gianna Rodriguez is flipping out because her yacht won’t start.”

Her grandpa grunted, his face unreadable. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a set of keys, and tossed them to Korban.

“Take Sylvie with you.”

Sylvie blinked in surprise. “Wait, what? I just got here! And I don’t know anything about boats.”

Korban turned to her with a cheeky grin.

“You know cars? They’re like that, but for water.”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

“Very funny. I mean, won’t I just get in the way? And what about Adrian? I’m not leaving him all by himself.”

Her grandpa fixed her with a look, his tone firm.

“I’m not gonna put him in boiling water, and I’m not gonna eat him, either. He can manage unpacking a suitcase without you hovering over him. Everyone pitches in around here. If you’re staying, you’ve gotta earn your keep.”

Sylvie’s jaw tightened, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that there was no room for argument. “I understand, but—”

“But nothing,” he interrupted. “Make sure you’re home before dark.”

Sylvie opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say a word, Korban nudged her gently in the side.

“C’mon,” he said with a playful grin. “We don’t have all day.”

She shot him a glare but bit her tongue, fuming as she followed him out of the house.

Outside, the sun shone brightly over the lake, its surface shimmering like glass. Sylvie stood beside Korban, helping him load tools into the small motorboat. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the earthy scent of pine and water. Korban tossed a wrench into the toolbox and straightened up, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath.

“Sorry to cut you off back there,” he said, glancing at her.

“I’ve learned the hard way that arguing with Edgar rarely does any good.”

Sylvie frowned, brushing her hands off on her shorts.

“Sounds like you know my grandpa better than I do.”

Korban gave a short laugh, his tone a little wistful. “Yeah, well, this job’s been my main source of human interaction since I moved here.”

Sylvie tilted her head curiously. “Moved from where?”

"A little town called Riverwood," Korban replied, leaning against the side of the boat.

"It's on the other side of the woods, but it's still quite far."

“How do you like it here?” Sylvie asked, her voice light but tinged with genuine interest.

“I did a little research before we moved, and it sounded like this town was... uh...”

“A bougie enclave for super-rich people who don’t actually like nature but do enjoy staring at it from their mansion balconies while sipping thousand-dollar chardonnay?” Korban interjected, smirking.

Sylvie chuckled. “Yeah, more or less that.”

Korban shrugged, hoisting a toolbox into the boat.

“It’s a little weird, not gonna lie. Last week, a customer literally referred to me as ‘boat boy.’ Boat boy,” he repeated, shaking his head. “Like, bro, I just spent four hours elbow-deep in your engine so it wouldn’t explode during your next joyride. Maybe learn my name?”

Sylvie laughed, a genuine, melodic sound that echoed across the water.

“If it’s so weird, then why leave Riverwood?”

For a moment, Korban didn’t answer. He busied himself stowing the toolbox, his gaze focused on the task at hand. When he finally spoke, his tone was quieter.

“Some... stuff happened there a 3 years ago. I don’t really wanna get into it, if that’s okay.”

Sylvie immediately regretted asking. “Oh, yeah... of course. Sorry.”

Korban shook his head, giving her a rueful smile.

“Nah, it’s fine. I swear I’m not trying to do this ‘man shrouded in mystery’ thing on purpose. Or maybe I am... maybe I’m even more mysterious than I seem.”

Sylvie grinned, catching his playful tone.

“Aha! I knew it! You’re a secret agent, aren’t you? Tell me, do your glasses shoot lasers? Or is your tuxedo bulletproof?”

Korban played along, straightening his posture and adopting a mock-serious expression.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that my body and wardrobe are government-honed deadly weapons. But I can confirm that I look pretty awesome in a suit.”

Sylvie snorted, shaking her head.

“Okay, Agent Bond. Let’s just hope your deadly weapons include fixing boats.”

Korban laughed, jumping down into the boat and holding out a hand to her. She took it, climbing in and settling onto the seat beside him. He fired up the engine, the boat vibrating softly beneath them as it hummed to life.

“Hey,” he said, turning to her with a sudden grin.

“I just had an idea! You haven’t had a chance to see the town yet, right?”

“Not really,” Sylvie admitted. “I just caught a glimpse of it on our way here.”

“Well,” Korban said, shifting the boat into gear, “we’ve gotta go all the way across the lake for this job anyway. Why don’t we take the scenic route? It’s a perfect day to check out the town’s many scenic vistas and fabulous attractions.”

Sylvie raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Fabulous attractions, huh? Sounds like a sales pitch.”

“Hey,” Korban shot back, winking.

“I’m nothing if not a professional tour guide. Welcome aboard Korban’s Totally Awesome Tour Boat, where our motto is: ‘Hey, look over there!’”

Sylvie laughed, the tension from earlier easing out of her shoulders.

“Okay, you sold me. Let’s do it.”

Korban gave her a mock salute.

“That’s the spirit. Buckle up—uh, figuratively speaking—and prepare to be amazed!”

As the boat glided out onto the open water, Sylvie leaned back in her seat, the wind whipping through her hair. Despite her initial reluctance, she couldn’t help but feel a small thrill of excitement as the lake stretched out before them, the promise of adventure on the horizon.

Sylvie smiled softly, her eyes closing, for a moment, it felt like a brief escape from everything weighing her down.

"I just hope... at least this will be good.'