Mia, a single mother, finally found hope again with her new boyfriend, Jake. A weekend getaway to his childhood beach house promised to be the perfect escape. But when her son, Luke, uncovered a mysterious box filled with bones, their peaceful retreat turned into something far more unsettling.
I’m Mia, a fourth-grade teacher, a job I cherish because it allows me to shape young minds while giving me time to be with my son, Luke. Being a single mom for the last five years has been tough, but I’ve managed. Luke’s father is rarely around, and his weekend visits are more of a distant memory.
Things started to feel brighter about four months ago when I met Jake. He’s a fellow teacher, kind, warm-hearted, and great with kids—everything I had hoped for in a partner. But I was nervous about how Luke would react to the idea of someone new in my life. He’s always been so attached to me, and I wasn’t sure how he would handle sharing my attention.
After days of worry, I finally decided to introduce them. One afternoon, I approached Luke while he was absorbed in building his latest Lego creation.
“Hey, Luke-a-doodle, how would you feel about meeting someone special for lunch this weekend?”
Luke looked up, curiosity in his eyes. “Special? Like superhero special?”
“More like ‘friend’ special. His name is Jake, and he’s a teacher too.”
Luke thought for a moment before asking, “Does he have a beard like Mr. Henderson?”—the school custodian with a legendary beard among the students.
I laughed. “No beard, but he has a great laugh!”
The following Saturday, we met Jake at a local pizzeria. Luke clung to my leg at first, but Jake quickly put him at ease. “Hey there, Luke! Your mom tells me you’re a Lego master. Think you could show me how to build something cool?”
Luke’s hesitation melted away, and soon he was proudly showing off his Lego skills. By the time we left, he was chatting nonstop about Jake’s “funny laugh.”
Over the next few weeks, we spent several weekends together—picnics in the park, zoo trips, and even a comically disastrous bowling attempt. Jake and I grew closer, and Luke warmed up to him more with each passing day.
Then came Jake’s invitation for us to visit his parents’ beach house. It seemed like the perfect getaway. Luke was excited, and I was looking forward to some time by the ocean.
Jake’s parents, Martha and William, welcomed us warmly, and their beach house radiated nostalgia. “Come on, let me show you my old room!” Jake announced with a grin, leading us upstairs to a room frozen in time, with faded rock band posters and dusty childhood toys.
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