The sound of waves brushing against the shore drifted into the room like a lullaby, broken only by the distant call of seabirds. The sunlight was already spilling through the half-open curtains when Elle stirred, rubbing the sleep from her grey eyes.
They had all gone to bed far too late the previous night — the beach party, the dancing, the feast, the laughter. Add in the exhaustion from the trip to the island, and no one had stirred until nearly midday.
By the time she stepped out of her room, the others were already shuffling toward the dining area like sleepy travelers in need of food.
The smell of grilled seafood and fresh bread filled the air, and as soon as they sat down, silence fell — except for the clinking of cutlery and the muffled sound of chewing. Everyone was too hungry to talk… everyone except Noah and Amara.
"I told you I'd beat you at dancing last night," Amara said between bites, her eyes narrowing in challenge.
"You? Please. You were clinging to me like a koala because you couldn't keep up," Noah shot back, smirking.
"I was clinging to you because you kept spinning me like I was in some dramatic movie!"
"That's called style, Amara. You wouldn't understand."
She rolled her eyes. "Style? You nearly dropped me twice!"
"Only because you stepped on my foot twice!"
Their bickering drew a few chuckles from around the table. Elle smirked into her drink, not bothering to hide her amusement. Kai, seated a few spots away, kept glancing at her between bites — not obvious enough for most to notice, but clear enough for Giselle, who was watching the whole thing with a simmering jealousy.
After lunch, the group decided to rest for a while before heading to the beach.
Later That Afternoon
The sun hung high in a perfect blue sky when Elle and Amara emerged in their swimsuits — cute but modest. Elle's was a soft lavender one-piece with small ruffle details along the straps, while Amara's was a light mint green with a tied bow at the back. Both were tasteful, nothing that would make them self-conscious.
The boys, meanwhile, wore comfortable swim shorts. Kai's were black with a subtle pattern, Noah's bright blue.
Giselle, however, made her entrance in a very revealing crimson two-piece, clearly meant to draw attention. And it worked — several of the boys on the beach turned their heads. Everyone except Kai. He barely gave her a glance, his eyes instead following Elle as she spread her towel out next to Amara's.
Lena, in a soft yellow swimsuit, looked effortlessly cute without trying. Giselle noticed the lack of reaction from Kai and flushed with embarrassment, her irritation toward Elle only deepening.
As the girls relaxed under the sun, Kai, Noah, and a couple of their friends grabbed surfboards and headed for the water. Laughter and shouts carried across the sand as they caught waves, while the girls chatted, soaking in the warmth.
A few minutes later, a familiar group arrived — Vincent's. They were setting up a net for volleyball.
Vincent, shirtless and in black shorts, looked every inch the charming, athletic figure. His movements were confident, easy, yet sharp when the game began. The way he leapt for the ball, muscles tensing, drew the attention of every girl nearby.
Elle found herself watching him, her gaze lingering. She wasn't the only one — even Amara paused mid-sentence to glance over.
Vincent's team won the match with ease, his smirk as he spiked the final ball earning cheers from his teammates.
Kai returned from the water just in time to see Elle's attention fixed on Vincent. His jaw tightened.
When the game ended, Elle stood, brushing sand from her legs, and walked toward Vincent. They fell into step along the shoreline, their voices low but easy.
Kai's mood darkened instantly. He dropped onto the sand beside Noah, who was shaking water from his hair.
"Something wrong?" Noah asked.
"Nothing," Kai muttered, though his eyes followed Elle and Vincent until they were out of earshot.
Giselle took her chance, strolling over. "Good game out there," she said brightly.
"Thanks," Kai replied, his tone polite but distant.
She tried again, sitting nearby. "You should've stayed longer. Bet you'd beat Vincent at volleyball."
Kai gave a small, noncommittal shrug, then changed the subject entirely, pulling Noah into the conversation. They all talked for a while, but his gaze still drifted now and then toward where Elle and Vincent had disappeared.
Elle and Vincent walked along the shore, the conversation flowing naturally. They spoke of the ocean, of travel, of the beauty of untouched places. It felt to Elle as if she were talking to a long-lost friend. Vincent was effortlessly charming — a gentleman with a warm smile and a sharp wit.
When they finally returned, it was to the hotel lobby.
"You're staying here too?" Elle asked in surprise.
"Yes," Vincent said with a grin. "We missed the afternoon because we went exploring caves — there's a hot spring inside one. Best experience of the trip so far."
Her eyes lit up. "That sounds amazing."
"I'll take you. You can bring your group, and I'll bring mine. Tomorrow morning?"
"Deal," Elle said, exchanging numbers with him.
Back in her room, Elle immediately called the others for a quick meeting. The idea of exploring a natural hot spring in a cave was met with instant agreement. She messaged Vincent, who suggested both groups meet at dinner to get acquainted.
That evening in the hotel dining area, Vincent's group of eight joined them. Three couples, plus Vincent and his childhood friend — a tall, poised girl named Clarisse.
Clarisse greeted everyone politely, but her eyes lingered on Elle with thinly veiled hostility. She had long been possessive of Vincent, subtly driving other girls away. But with Elle, she didn't dare — not after seeing Vincent's protective stance toward her. Clarisse still remembered the time she had dug into Elle's past, unearthing the rumors about Sasha, and how Vincent's fury had chilled her to the bone.
Now, under Elle's cool grey gaze, Clarisse felt an involuntary shiver and looked away, hiding the sweat on her palms.
The dinner was lively. Stories were exchanged, laughter was frequent, and small rivalries sparked beneath the surface.
Later, the group moved to the bonfire. The flames painted flickering shadows across the sand as they settled in a loose circle, swapping scary stories.
The fire crackled, casting long shadows that danced along the sand. A salty breeze carried the faint rhythm of waves, but even the ocean seemed quieter now.
When it was Elle's turn, she leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees. Her grey eyes caught the glow of the flames, making them seem almost silver.
"This story," she began softly, "isn't one I heard from a book or the internet. It happened… not too far from where I used to live."
The laughter and chatter around the bonfire died down.
"It started with a little girl named Maren. She was eight. Everyone in the neighborhood knew her — bright smile, loved chasing fireflies in the summer. One rainy evening, she didn't come home. Her parents searched, the neighbors searched, the police searched. Nothing. No trace. Weeks went by."
Elle's tone was calm, almost too calm, and it made some of the girls shift uncomfortably.
"A few months later, an old house at the edge of town was marked for demolition. It had been abandoned for years — peeling paint, broken windows, the kind of place children dared each other to run past at night. The demolition team was tearing down one of the walls when they found… something wedged deep inside. At first, they thought it was just debris. Then they saw the dress."
The fire popped, making one of the girls flinch.
"It was the same yellow dress Maren wore the day she disappeared. Only now… it was stiff, caked with dust, and wrapped around her bones. The wall had been sealed from the outside, hiding her there. Whoever did it wanted her to stay hidden forever."
A hush fell over the circle. Even Noah stopped fidgeting.
"They never found the killer," Elle continued, her voice dropping lower, forcing everyone to lean in to hear. "But some people in town said… if you walked past that house at night, you could hear scratching. From inside the walls. Like she was still trying to get out."
One of the girls whimpered. The firelight flickered across pale faces.
"And here's the worst part," Elle said, her gaze slowly sweeping over the group. "The demolition team swore… when they broke open the wall, her hands weren't down at her sides. They were up. Bent. Like she'd been reaching toward the surface."
Silence. The kind of silence where everyone is holding their breath without realizing it.
Kai sat a little straighter, his brows knit, but he didn't interrupt. Vincent leaned back, faintly smirking, as though intrigued rather than spooked. Noah, however, looked like the blood had drained from his face.
"Real story," Elle finished, her voice returning to its normal lightness. "Happened about five years ago."
Giselle let out a nervous laugh that didn't convince anyone. Amara shook her head, muttering, "Okay, nope. I'm never sleeping again."
Kai glanced at Noah and grinned. "You're looking a little pale there, champ. Need me to leave the nightlight on for you?"
The group laughed, but the unease lingered — no one quite able to shake the image Elle had painted. And as they drifted back toward their rooms, more than a few glanced at the walls around them before stepping inside.
Sleep, they realized, might not come so easily tonight.