Camp Verity had been shut for nineteen years. The cabins smelled like wet paper and the dock sagged under your feet. Mara set the recorder on a tree stump while Devon clipped on the mics and Priya filmed the dead waterfront of Signal Lake. "Episode one," Mara said. "Why does a whole town pretend this place never existed?" Then they noticed something weird. When Priya yelled across the water, the lake gave back no echo at all.

A pickup truck rolled up the gravel road and stopped. A woman in a diner apron got out, arms crossed. "You kids can't be here," she said. "Nobody films Verity. Pack up and go." But her eyes kept darting to the lake, like she was scared of it too.

Mara stepped forward. "Then tell us what happened. If you talk, we stop digging." The woman, whose tag read GAIL, glanced at the trees and lowered her voice. "Nineteen years ago, a counselor ran a swim test. Six kids went in the water. Five came back. We agreed never to speak of it. Speaking makes it louder."