The phone buzzed to life on the dashboard, its screen illuminating the dark of the truck cab. Penelope jolted awake in the passenger seat, gasping for air like she had been dreaming of drowning.

"I think we've got service again," her dad said, keeping his dark eyes on the road despite the buzzing phone skittering across his dash.

"Ugh," was all Penelope had to say about that.

In the dim first rays of morning light, it took Penelope a moment to reorient herself. Once her eyes adjusted, she could see that they had just started down the mountain. The lights of the town were glittering in the valley below.

The past few hours without connection to the world had given Penelope a bit of much-needed peace. But with every buzz of the phone, reality was now crashing back down. The cab of her dad's old pickup suddenly felt much smaller, like it was folding in, and threatening to crush her beneath the weight of it.

She snatched the phone off the dash. The screen was a blur as message after message flooded in. She had already disabled notifications for YouTube, Instagram, Snapchat, TikTok and Twitter but it looked like they had found her actual phone number now. The torrent of messages paused only briefly for her to catch a few words here and there.

BITCH

FAKE

LIAR

"Maybe you should turn that off," her dad said.

"I am," she said, running her hand through her tangled now-faded teal hair. "I don't know why I didn't before."

She tried her hardest not to look as she fumbled for the phone's power button. But she couldn't help it—she peeked again into the stream of messages. It only took one to know that it was a mistake.

KILL YOURSELF

The screen went black before she could see more. She shoved her phone into the depths of her bag and turned to the window, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. She didn't want her dad to see her like this.

"That's better," her dad replied, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead.

She grimaced. It wasn't.

An uneasy silence settled over Penelope and her dad as they continued into town. Penelope stared out the window and tried to keep her mind blank, focusing instead on the lightening sky and watching as the clouds faded from deep purple to pale pink. Distracted, she barely noticed the large wooden sign until it had already whipped past.

Penelope sat up straighter in her seat, craning her neck to get a better look at the sign, even though it was already far in the rearview mirror. She could barely make out the message on its back as it dwindled from view...

Thank you for visiting Ridgestone!

Ridgestone.

Is that where we're headed? She hadn't paid attention to her father's travel plans before they left—when he had proposed getting out of town for a bit she hadn't cared where they were going, she had just wanted to go—but the name sparked something in her, itching at the back of her mind. It seemed familiar, more familiar than just hearing it in passing on the way out of the city...

She frowned and turned to her father. "Have we been here before?"

Maybe that was it—they had gone on a lot of camping trips when she was younger, travelling all over the province, just a tiny trailer and her and her dad and mom. Maybe they had made the trek out this way before.

"A long time ago, though I'm sure you barely remember it," he said, but the quick, not-so-subtle glance he shot her told her that there was more to his story.

Penelope studied him with narrowed eyes. He was as bad at lying as she was. "What are you up to?"

Her father pretended not to notice her eyes boring into him. "Hey, we're almost there," he said, trying to distract her.

It worked, a little. Another glance out the passenger window, and Penelope saw the forest had begun to thin away, making way for the first signs of civilization.

Chills raced over her skin as she watched the houses get closer and closer together. Though the town of Ridgestone was small and remote, this was still the 21st century. The internet was inescapable, even all the way out here.

She pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt and shrank into her seat. "I thought you said we were staying in a cabin. Why are we driving into town?"

"I figured we'd want something to eat before we headed out that way," her father replied as he pulled off the highway and onto the streets of the town.

Penelope's stomach was aching with hunger; she hadn't eaten much since they had left the city, but the idea of going anywhere in public—even if it was in a town in the middle of nowhere—only made her heart race harder.

"Can we get takeout?" Penelope asked. Her voice shook slightly.

Her father finally looked at her for more than a second. "You sure? You don't want to explore? We've got some time."

Penelope shook her head. Old Penelope would've loved poking around a new, unfamiliar place, but now even the mystery of town's familiarity wasn't enough motivation. She just wanted to go somewhere quiet and not talk to anyone for a long, long time.

Pulling off the highway, her father came to a stop in front of a 24/7 diner, the kind that catered to truckers and insomniacs. Thankfully, leaned in the front window, was a sign that read WE DO TAKEOUT. Penelope let out a small sigh of relief.

"Sure you don't want to come in?" her father asked one last time, grabbing his ratty old hat from the dash and shoving his shaggy salt-and-pepper hair into it.

The diner, though open, didn't look very busy. The only people inside were a couple of rugged old men at the counter and a bored-looking waitress puttering behind it. They didn't exactly look like the types to know anything about internet drama but even mainstream media had picked up on the story now. Everyone loved a fall from grace, even if they barely knew who was falling.

"I'll wait here," she said, curling up into a ball on the seat.

Her father smiled encouragingly. "You should at least take a walk. We've been sitting in this truck for a while." He tossed the keys at her. She fumbled them and they landed in her lap, making her father chuckle.

"I don't know," Penelope said.

"Come on, just a quick walk," her father pressed. "It's still early. This place is dead. No one will see you. If you go, I'll get you a sprinkle donut." He waggled his eyebrows at her, and his dorky smile made his face crinkle up.

"I'm not twelve, Dad," Penelope said, half-rolling her eyes. "You can't bribe me with donuts anymore."

Her father just shrugged off her sour response. "Your choice." Before she had a chance to protest further, he closed the door on her and headed into the café.

As much as she'd love to stay curled up out of sight, her father was right—she needed to move. Penelope took a moment to stretch herself out and rub at the crick in her neck from sleeping in the truck. And the streets of the small town did look abandoned, just as he said; she had the place to herself.

Pocketing the keys, Penelope slid out of the truck and started down the sidewalk. This street was a boulevard, running parallel to the highway. Like the café, the rest of the businesses that ran along it were dedicated to through traffic from the highway: gas stations, fast food, auto garages. Nothing interesting. She took the first corner onto the next street.

This is where the town actually began. The street was the town's main drag.

A divider of fresh-cut grass and flowers ran down the centre of the street and either side was lined with rustic mom-and-pop businesses. Even the few chains stores were dressed up to fit the aesthetic. At this early hour, they were all closed, so Penelope didn't bother to look any closer. She liked being the only one out here, even if it was a little eerie like she had stepped into some dystopian movie where she was the lone survivor in a town overrun by very tidy zombies. She walked on, glad for the quiet—aside from the squawking of several birds.

The four small blocks that made up the main street soon came to an end. As she made it to the end of the street, it opened up into a small park, dotted with trees, and the sidewalk gave way to a paved path that led through it. She followed it, despite the complaints from her stiff legs. The path weaved between bushes and benches until it curved around a small group of trees and out of sight. Penelope let it lead her, enjoying the warm morning air. It felt good after being stuck in the stuffy truck for hours. She pulled back her hood and let the early summer breeze ruffle through her hair as she walked. The only sound was the wind in the trees and the birds, cawing and squawking in the distance...

She rounded the corner and suddenly there was a figure, blocking her path. It loomed over her, half-hidden under a tree. Its dark, shining eyes met hers and Penelope's heart stuttered. She hadn't expected to meet anyone out here at this hour and—

It took a half-second for her frozen brain to realize that it wasn't another person. It was a statue, more of a sculpture, crudely hewn out of wood and stained an inky black. But this was no loving tribute to a town founder or notable community member... This was something else.

Though the statue had mostly human features—thin legs crouched at the ready, too-long arms stretched wide—it was not human. Where a man's face should be was the head of a bird, its long beak stretched wide like it was frozen in a scream. A legend. A monster. Penelope didn't need to read the plaque underneath to know its name; she recognized it immediately. It bore the name of the town, which was why it had sounded so familiar.

It was The Raven of Ridgestone.