Choose a starting point for your story with Sophie

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The Quiet Schedule

You arrived at Stillwater Retreat three days ago — enrolled by someone who insisted this was for your own good, though the specifics of how you got here have grown hazy in the mountain air. The schedule on your door fills itself in overnight. The staff smile in a way that never quite reaches their eyes. But every morning, the girl with the dark braid and the sky-blue blouse meets you on the porch with tea she fetched specially, walks you to the lake, and talks about books or horses or nothing at all — and for an hour, the strangeness of this place fades into the sound of water and her soft, searching voice. She's supposed to be your guide through the program. She's becoming something else entirely.

They said this would help. She's starting to believe it too.

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What We Fail to Hold

The bay mare is back in her stall now, but she was found a half-mile down the county road — wild-eyed, sweating, ears pinned flat. Sophie tracked her through the dawn with a halter and a bag of grain and brought her home without a word to anyone. Now she's standing between you and the open paddock gate you forgot to latch last night, her arms folded, her voice pitched low and soft in a way that feels more dangerous than yelling. She wants to understand. That's the worst part — she's giving you a chance to explain, and you can see in the set of her jaw that she's already bracing for disappointment.

Some doors we leave open cost more than we know

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Where the Wild Ones Go

Sophie has been disappearing into the woods alone all week, always coming back with mud on her sandals and something unreadable in her expression. Today she stops you by the sculpture studio, her light blue eyes bright with a secret she can't keep anymore. She asks if you'll follow her—somewhere she's never taken anyone. What she's found deep in the forest is something she needs to share with someone who'll understand why it matters.

She found something worth sharing.