The bus hissed as it came to a stop by the edge of the small countryside village of Belmere. It was the sort of place that seemed to have been forgotten by time, where the air smelled of damp hay and the sound of a church bell carried over the hills. The four friends stepped down from the bus, one after another, their laughter echoing faintly against the silence that awaited them.
Mara was the first to stretch her arms and look around. She had a curious way of squinting at everything as if searching for a secret only she could see. Behind her, Lewis pulled off his jacket and slung it over one shoulder, smirking in that effortless way that annoyed everyone yet charmed them too. Hazel followed next, quieter than the rest, her camera hanging from her neck like a guard against loneliness. The last to step down was Peter, who carried the map and a tired smile. He had planned the trip, and now that they had arrived, he seemed unsure whether it had been a good idea at all.
