Avery's POV

As the trees enveloped us again in the forest, the air wrapped cooler around us. The heat from our previous disagreement was still in my chest making my heart ache, not that I would dare say so. Because Jameson was stomping beside me with stiff limbs and shoulders, as if each step he took was a protest at the uncomfortable ceasefire we had just negotiated.

 

I saw the slightest flash of irritation on his face when I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye without turning fully to him, but it was gone as quickly as it had sprung up. Normally, he was so stoic, so detached. It annoyed me. I bit the insides of my cheeks slowly so as not to send my mind back toward the harsh words we had exchanged just moments before.

 

I held tightly to the strap of my backpack as we walked further into the woods. The trees on either side of the narrow route stood as though sentinels, their gnarled limbs reaching out as if to snare us. My body shivered as the fragrance of decayed foliage and lichen intermingled with the dampness.

 

I was aware that Jameson wasn’t speaking to me, and so I didn’t press him. I then focused on trying to organize my thoughts, taking note of my visual imagery most of all. I imagined that the old witch’s words were buried in my bones now. “Anna is weak.” Those words. What were they trying to say? Why did she want to expose herself to me?

 

I swallowed hard, erasing the mental image. “If you keep thinking about it, you’re going to make yourself go crazy.” A low strong voice of Jameson broke into my trim of thought. I quickly glanced at him and was also taken aback. It had the same impersonal tone he was known for, and I wasn’t sure if he was really advising me or picking on me.

 

I didn’t answer him but turned away instead. The wind passed through the trees, and suddenly a low rustle, crisp caught my attention. I froze in mid-stride, my heart muscle tight. Jameson froze as well, peering into the darkness with keen eyes. "Did you hear that?" I whispered my voice nearly falling upon deaf ears.

 

Jameson tensed, his shoulders tightening again. He didn't respond right away. He studied the dark trees, his mouth pressed into a thin line. It was something off the walkway that had made the sound, he said. His voice sounded tentative, but he continued, “Probably just an animal.”

 

I didn’t believe this was him being practically true. The sound was more artificial than real, and I found it embarrassing. I set aside my fear and kept forcing myself to move. At any rate, it was wiser to focus on the task at hand. We kept moving, the tension between us never breaking as we pushed on.

 

Jameson had always left me confused, and the more I tried to understand him, the more it seemed like we were worlds apart. It wasn’t only his mannerisms, but his inability to trust people. I could never unlock the mystery that was him. Again, my thoughts drifted to the vision. The image of the elderly woman lingered behind my closed eyes like an old stain.

 

She was saying things that were too cryptic for me and didn’t make sense. She must have had a mission; she was not just any ghost. I took a deep breath and attempted to focus on my own thoughts but then I noticed something. Something hard brushed against the bottom of my boot on the forest floor.

 

Which made me stop and look down, curious to know what it was. “Hold on,” I said, squatting. Found something—something chilly and worn—I used my fingers brushing through the leaves and dirt. By now Jameson had been standing next to me, his gaze strong enough to feel through his stare without looking up.

 

"What is it" he asked his voice quiet but attentive. I brushed off more dirt with my hands, revealing what appeared to be a chunk of map. I held it between shaking fingers, aware of its brittle and fraying edges. Though aged paper left to the ravages of old rain and time, I still was able to read the fading ink.

 

"A map," I whispered. Jameson studied the shard closely, but seemed unimpressed. His expression was stoic, but his brow furrowed. “It could be nothing,” he added calmly, as if denying my discovery would soothe my own and as if waving this off.

 

Annoyance boiled under my skin and I sneered. "This isn't nothing, Jameson. Take a look. It serves as a hint. He took a while to reply. He projected a section with what seemed like willful ignorance, hands in his hips. And what if it takes us nowhere?

I was at a loss, tightening my fists at how angry it made me. “Because I know it’s something.” She told me things. items that had significance. You don’t think this could give us some answers?

The two of us shared a moment of silence. We were in the midst of the sounds of the woods, distant rustling, an occasional crack of a branch, wind rustling leaves. Jameson’s cool, condescending eyes felt like an anchor holding me down from hope, but the piece of map felt fragile in my fingers, evidence of something important.

At last, he announced, “I don’t trust clues.” His voice sliced through the atmosphere like piercing steel. "Not without evidence."

My heart dropped at what I was seeing. I didn’t want to admit how hurtful his words were. This was about faith and instinct, not mere trust. His cold scepticism was like a knife in me, but instinct told me this was important.

I whispered, more to myself than to him: “Jameson, we can’t keep doubting ourselves. We’re all stuck here together. Let’s actually believe the map for once. Have faith in something.

He didn't answer. His eyes unreadable, his jaw tight, he stared at the piece of map. The air was still thick with tension. I could not shake the feeling that we had opened up to something so much bigger than us, and my hand trembled just a little as I held the map.

But the sound of Jameson’s remarks kept resonating in my ears. What if it didn't exist?

I knew this finding would place yet another strain on our already tenuous bond, as in the woods we stood, ever-at-odds faith and doubt.

Silence reigned; Jameson finally groaned. “OK,” he said, his voice quiet. We’ll start to look into this. But don’t expect me to believe it.” He said.

I nodded, but felt my stomach turn. I didn’t think he would make his last statement.

We stopped there for one more minute and then moved again, our feet unsteady, our breath shallow, and the now clutched-firmly map fragment in my hand.

The trees stretched out before us, tall, dark and patient. And every step, I couldn't get it out of my head that someone was watching us, stalking us. Something was out there.

And it wasn’t the old sound, either. The forest was not a hollow, empty space, and I felt it.

My skin had goosebumps as I looked around wondering what's going to follow.