Sometimes, when the campfire dies and the cabins fall quiet, you hear footsteps where no one should be. The creak of a bridge swaying in the dark, whispers drifting through the trees, these are the things that donāt show up on any map. At camp, some nights carry more than silence. They carry secrets you canāt outrun. First, a face in the window Followed by they donāt leave footprints Finally in our last story, Three Bells, no escape Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Sometimes, when the campfire dies and the cabins fall quiet, you hear footsteps where no one should be. The creak of a bridge swaying in the dark, whispers drifting through the trees, these are the things that donāt show up on any map. At camp, some nights carry more than silence. They carry secrets you canāt outrun. First, a face in the window Followed by they donāt leave footprints Finally in our last story, Three Bells, no escape Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices...