Chapter 1 Aria

If I had a penny for every time my mom said “fresh start,” I’d probably have enough to buy a lifetime supply of chocolate or at least pay someone to explain why moving to Silverpine seemed like a good idea. The car rattled over the uneven road with trees leaning in on both sides like nosy neighbours. Branches swayed against one another and I pressed my forehead against the window. Maybe it was nerves but I couldn’t stop thinking the forest was watching me.

Mom hummed along to some upbeat song, smiling like this was an adventure instead of a relocation. “Try to keep an open mind, Aria,” she said, eyes sparkling. “Silverpine is beautiful. Peaceful and exactly what we need.”

“Peaceful if we ever decide to join a cult,” I muttered under my breath. She glanced at me, eyebrows raised but didn’t argue. That was Mom’s thing, optimism stitched into every word. Divorce? A chance to rediscover herself? Losing her job? It was always a fresh start. Moving me into the middle of nowhere because she wanted quiet? Yeah, a frickin' fresh start.

The GPS chimed that we had arrived and I finally looked up. Our new house was two stories, painted white with surprisingly little peeling. A porch swing dangled lazily and behind it, the forest stretched endlessly, thick and dark, and my stomach gave a little twist. It was the kind of woods that made you notice every shadow and every movement. I told myself to calm down that I was fine. Everything was totally fine.

Mom jumped out, stretching, arms wide like she was greeting the entire forest. “Home sweet home!”

I lingered in the car a second longer, gripping my hoodie tighter. The air smelled sharp: pine, damp earth, and maybe a hint of something metallic. I shook my head. I was probably imagining it. Yep, definitely imagining it. I guess it had to do with me not liking the place.

“Grab your stuff from the trunk, sweetheart,” Mom called.

Groaning and rolling my eyes at the same time, I hauled two suitcases, a backpack, and a box labeled Aria’s Room which was my last shred of control over my life. Inside, the house smelled faintly of lemon cleaner and dust. The floorboards groaned under my weight, which I decided was judgmental since I didn't weigh that much, and I rolled my eyes for the second time. My eyes hadn't popped out of their sockets, well, not yet.

“Your room’s upstairs, last one on the right,” Mom said. “You’ll love it. It has a great view of the forest.”

“Yay! Trees,” I muttered, hoping my sarcasm was subtle.

She smiled, choosing to ignore me which was typical. I mean she's my mom and she knows me, after all.

Upstairs, my room was smaller than my old one, slanted ceiling, pale blue walls and a big window facing the woods. I dumped my backpack and just stared out at the forest. Wind moved through the branches and I tried to convince myself it was peaceful but my chest tightened anyway. I have never lived anywhere close to a forest. I sighed.

Unpacking was painfully slow. I set music on low to drown out the silence. Nothing like a good SZA’s song to calm the atmosphere. Oddly, there was barely little noise for it was too quiet for my liking. Apparently, my mom loves this kind of quiet. My old street had noise. Here, even the smallest creak felt amplified. Gosh! Did my mom bring us to a ghost town? I bit my lip and told myself that I was just overreacting.

By the time I went back downstairs, Mom had already rearranged the living room like she was in a competition. “Maybe we can walk around later,” she said. “And meet the neighbours.”

“Sure. Can’t wait to meet the two other humans in a five-mile radius,” I said. She gave me that look again.

Fine. I decided to tone down the sarcasm a bit. It had been a stressful day. Dinner was takeout pizza on the floor because the table needed replacement. Mom chattered about bakeries and schools. I nodded, pretending to care while my eyes kept drifting to the window.

After dishes, I went back to my room and cracked the window. Cool air brushed my face smelling of wet pine. A branch tapped the glass lightly and my chest jumped. I laughed at myself cause I was definitely overreacting and feeling jumpy. I leaned out a little and closed my eyes, listening to the calm. The forest was mostly quiet but the wind rattled leaves and every so often and a bird called or a squirrel scuttled along a branch. It was really unnerving. I loved the city with its bustling streets. Here felt like a wildlife park. I tried not to groan again. Of all the places, my mom chose this.

I unpacked a few more things, focusing on trivialities: closet space, bookshelf arrangement and which posters to put up. Can’t let my SZA’s poster gather dust and I know, I'm such a huge fan. My eyes kept flicking to the window. I just knew I was going to hate it here and probably wouldn't last a week. Finally, I lay on my bed, headphones in and scrolled through my playlist settling on Sia this time. My eyes kept darting toward the window toward the woods. There was something weird about this place. I tried to think about mundane things — school tomorrow, food, whether I remembered to pack my lucky pen — but every minor noise made me tense.

A small snap outside made me sit up. A branch, probably. My imagination ran wild, conjuring shadows and shapes that didn’t exist. I rolled my eyes at myself reminding myself that I was being childish. I lay back down again, telling myself it was all normal and I was probably behaving like a five year old. But Silverpine felt alive in a way I couldn’t explain and didn’t understand. I just had to survive the first evening. I tried not to think of life back home and continued humming to Sia's Unstoppable.

Then I heard footsteps. Slow and careful, crunching through leaves somewhere outside my window. I froze and plugged out my headphones. The sound stopped and nothing moved. I just shrugged and continued humming to the song. I decided finally that I needed to stop overthinking this relocation of a thing. And heavens forbid I let my paranoia get the best of me.