"How many times do I have to say I want to come?" Morgan stares sleepily at his little sister: "Chloe, you can't come." Morgan is a slim boy with brown hair. His computer is always on. He loves playing shooting games, but ever since an abandoned hospital was discovered in the woods, he prefers hanging out there with his friends. "I'm coming." Chloe grabs her coat from the rack. "Let Chloe come. She's not doing anything wrong." Morgan sighs loudly and wearily. "Okay. Let her come then."
"We have a problem." Morgan's voice is quiet but firm as he points at Chloe, who's standing awkwardly near the hallway mirror. Her brown hair tumbles past her shoulders in uneven waves, and freckles dot her face like scattered stars. She's trying to look older, but the nervous way she shifts her weight gives her away. "Did she bring makeup?" Katrien asks, her tone clipped. Morgan sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know we weren't supposed to tell anyone. Not even her." Footsteps echo softly on the wooden floor as Kayden steps up beside Morgan. His blond curls, his hoodie half-zipped, and there's a restless energy in his posture. "Come on, Kayden," Katrien says, almost pleading. "We can't keep everything a secret forever." Kayden doesn't answer. Instead, Katrien silently hands him her backpack. "I love secrets!" Chloe chirps, bouncing on her toes. Her enthusiasm is painfully out of place, like laughter in a graveyard. She's fifteen—just a year younger than Katrien, who already moves with the quiet confidence of someone used to hiding things. The rest of the group is seventeen. Chloe doesn't see it yet, but she's walking into something she doesn't understand. Katrien walks to the door and slides it open slowly. The hinges creak, and a gust of cool air slips into the room, brushing past their legs like a warning. "Weekend starts tomorrow," she says, her voice low and deliberate. She doesn't look back. "And I think our surprise has been waiting for this moment."