They froze, listening. The rustling of leaves grew louder, then a voice—familiar and slightly annoyed—cut through the night.
Jade lifted it, the flashlight catching the faint engraving of a rose. “It looks old. Maybe it opens a gate?” step siblings caught jade maris
“Someone—” Maris lowered his voice, “—said the creek used to flow under that old oak. And there’s a legend about a hidden garden that only appears when the water’s high enough.” They froze, listening
Jade tucked her camera into her jacket. “Then let’s see what secrets Willow Creek is keeping.” That night, after Mia tucked them into bed and the house fell quiet, the step‑siblings slipped out through the side door with a flashlight, a blanket, and a bag of snacks. The creek, swollen from a recent storm, roared louder than usual, its waters spilling over the old stone bridge and carving a new path through the overgrown meadow. “It looks old