Camp Ivory is a home away from home for Astrid, Violet and Harper. Every summer without fail, they pack their bags and drive to the camp and this year is the same as always. However when they finally arrive at Camp Ivory, something feels off. Differ...
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I feel my muscles straining as I attempt to push the heavy crate of supplies. It refuses to budge, mocking my feeble attempts. Frustration bubbles up inside me, but before I can unleash it upon the inanimate object, I'm interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Need a hand?"
I turn to find Finn standing behind me, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement. "No thanks, I'm all good here." I huff, turning back around in order to prove that I can do it. But no matter how hard I push, the crate won't budge.
Finn smirks, taking a step closer. "Are you sure about that? It looks like the crate is winning this round."
I glare at him. He takes a step back. "Alright, alright. I'll let you handle it." He assures.
With newfound strength, I give the crate one final shove, this time putting my full body weight behind it. To my satisfaction, it finally moves, gliding smoothly across the floor.
Behind me, Finn exaggeratingly claps. "Have you ever thought about taking up heavy lifting, or in this case heavy pushing, Astrid?"
I spin around to look at him. "No Finn, I can't say I ever have." I smile sweetly at him before resuming my glare.
Turning back around disappointment settles in as I realise what I thought was a hidden compartment, turns out to be nothing more than a boarded up window. I shake my head, frustrated with myself for getting it wrong.
"Did you find anything?" I ask him.
He shakes his head. "Absolutely nothing."
We step out of the cramped storeroom and into the main area of the arts building. I take a seat at one of the tables, sighing in frustration.
"You?" Finn asks, settling down on a stool across from me.
I mirror his previous action, shaking my head. "Hopefully the others were more successful."
"What are we going to do for the next hour then?" He asks.
"Sleep?" I ask hopefully. It sounds dreadfully depressing, but I love sleep because it means I can stop thinking for a bit. Stop thinking about my perfect sister and my parents' impossible expectations. About this murder mystery and the fact that a murderer could be watching us right now.
Finn raises an eyebrow. "Come on," He says, suddenly standing up, holding his hand out for me to take.
I eye his outstretched hand warily, but my curiosity gets the better of me. With a sigh, I take his hand and let him lead me out the door.
"So, where are we going?" I question, after a few minutes of walking, still yet to pulmy hand out of his.
"You'll see."
"Oooh, spooky. You know, mysterious doesn't really work on you." I tell him, not even looking around to see where we are going, too busy focused on our conversation.
