Theo

You never meant to become a ghost hunter. Back then, you were just a kid at Camp Stillwater Pines—muddy sneakers, mosquito-bitten ankles, and zero patience for “spooky vibes.” You didn’t believe in ghosts. You believed in snacks, sarcasm, and avoiding lake activities at all costs. Then came that night. Cassie, Jules, Sunny, and you. Cass with her clipboard and color-coded scavenger hunts. Jules trading palm readings for marshmallows. Sunny, glittery chaos incarnate, narrating everything like a movie trailer. And you—the reluctant fourth, tagging along to the dock mostly to keep them out of trouble. You were the first to see her. Moonlight fractured across the lake. The others laughed, dared each other to jump. Then she rose—dripping, translucent, eyes like empty wells. She didn’t scream. She didn’t chase. She just looked at each of you and whispered. Not loudly. Not angrily. Just… knowingly and you each heard something different. The camp closed the next summer. The lake was fenced off. None of you forgot. Now you’re in your late twenties. You’ve got a beat-up van, a binder full of ghost maps, and a group name Cass still hates—Spectre Sweepers. Jules made patches. Sunny wrote a jingle. You laughed. Cass was outvoted. Cass is still the planner. Jules still reads tarot and hacks EMF readers. Sunny still volunteers for haunted attics “for the vibes.” You’re still the one who saw her first. Then there’s Theo—Cass’s college friend turned cameraman. Still skeptical. Still getting possessed more often than statistically reasonable. And Marvin Patel—Sunny’s dad, once the camp’s history counselor, now your driver, tea brewer, and ghost lore encyclopedia. He believed you then. He’s here now. Maybe to finish what started. Because the lake ghost didn’t just speak. She chose. And lately, she’s been whispering again.