By the time her dad exited the diner, Penelope was back in the truck, curled up in her seat. Her dad smiled at her and raised his bounty so she could see: a grease-stained paper bag. But Penelope's responding expression wiped the smile from his face.

He came to the truck and opened the door. "Back already?" he asked, climbing inside. "I thought you might want to explore—"

"I did," Penelope replied, turning to him. Her eyes were as cold as the early morning air. "I was right, wasn't I? We have been here before."

Her dad attempted another smile that quickly faltered. "Yeah, we have," he said. "We stopped here on our roadtrip to Bella Coola when you were a kid. Do you remember?"

"I remember," Penelope mumbled, turning away again to look out her window. The memories were a little foggy—it had been over ten years ago, just before her eighth birthday—but she did remember it.

In her childhood, Penelope's mom and dad had taken her many a road trip. They had spent most of their summers camping and hiking all over the country. And while Penelope had enjoyed it, she had always preferred the drive to the destination. She loved stopping in many small towns along the way, spending an afternoon exploring them, discovering their secrets. Her favourite towns were always the towns with an odd claim-to-fame, like a UFO landing pad or a lake monster like the Ogopogo.

The Raven had been one of them.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," her dad said, interrupting her trip down memory lane. "I thought it would cheer you up."

Penelope didn't respond.

Her dad was silent for a moment, too, then dropped the heavy bag beside her on the long seat. "I got you that donut."

Penelope reluctantly took the bag and held it in her lap. On top of the greasy breakfast sandwiches and wax-paper-wrapped hashbrowns was a small plastic container. Inside, as he had promised, was a donut with pink icing and silver sprinkles.

The sight of it softened Penelope, just a little. "Thanks, dad," she said in a small voice and closed the bag.

Her dad just nodded as he started up the truck again and backed out onto the street. Instead of getting right back on the highway, he went the long way, looping around the town square. Penelope tried not to look at the Raven statue as her dad rounded the park. But the monstrous statue seemed to draw her in, its shining eyes following her as they passed. From afar, it looked a lot more intimidating.

She remembered seeing it for the first time, back when she was very small. Back then, it had frightened her. Upon first sight, she had dove behind her dad and hid there until her mother coaxed her out. Her mother got her to put her hands on the statue, feel the rough-hewn wood. She explained the monster wasn't real, that it couldn't hurt her, even though Penelope didn't quite believe her...

The truck turned a corner, breaking the statue's stare. Penelope was glad for it.

From there, they drove out the way they came. The signs of civilization dwindled again, town turning back into forest. As they passed the wooden sign thanking them for visiting Ridgestone, her dad finally spoke.

"I should've told you," he said.

"Huh?" Penelope said, torn out of her thoughts.

"I should've told you where we were going," he said, again. "But I thought that coming back here might've, I dunno, reminded you of the good parts. Of the why you started with this stuff in the first place." He shot her a weak smile. "It seems to have had the opposite effect, though, huh?"

Penelope blew a breath out. It was hard to stay mad at her dad. "It's okay. I know you meant well. It just—" she shook her head. "It reminds me of everything I don't want to be reminded of."

Her dad shot her another glance, his features tight. "Your mom?" he asked, his voice soft.

That only made the twinge in her chest sharpen. Memories of her mom only made it all worse. "It's not Mom, Dad." Her voice cracked, making her wince. "It's everything else." She gestured wide as if referencing the whole world.

He squared his shoulders like he was rustling up some courage. "Penelope, look. I know you don't think I get it, but I know this is more than just a breakup," he began. "I know something happened with your Internet stuff. I want to at least try to understand."

Penelope said nothing.

Her dad sighed. "If you're not going to tell me, at least give me something I can Google."

An icy chill ran over her skin as she imagined her dad Googling her name and seeing all the things they were saying about her. "Do NOT Google me," she snapped.

"Then tell me what happened."

Penelope sighed. "I got... cancelled." It all sounded so incredibly stupid to say aloud. The dorky label didn't really capture the devastating results. "I'm basically a pariah online."

Her dad's brow folded together. "What? Why?"

"E-Everyone t-thinks—" Penelope began but had to stop because her voice was threatening to crack again. She collected herself and restarted, "Everyone thinks I'm a fraud. They think I faked all my evidence. They think I'm a liar. They hate me now."

The hardest part of telling her dad this wasn't having to say it all aloud... it was seeing each word register on his face, watching him be hurt on her behalf. It made her vision blur with tears for a half-second before she blinked them away.

"But you're not a fraud," her dad said. "Why would anyone think that about you?"

"Because Daevon told everyone that my evidence was faked."

Her dad's face dropped. "But that's not true!"

"It is," Penelope said, sighing. "Because he faked it."

Her father's face twisted up in confusion.

Penelope knew that he was having the same crisis she had a few days before.

If all of it was fake, then what did that mean for—

"I had no idea," Penelope said, and suddenly a sob pushed its way out. She swiped at her cheeks and found them wet. "But that doesn't matter."

"B-But," her dad sputtered, "if Daevon admitted he did it all, then why are they mad at you?"

"Because he conveniently left out the fact that I wasn't involved. So they think I was in on it, all along." Another sob shook through her. She pressed her knuckles into her mouth to keep any more from escaping.

He kept glancing between her and the road. "Then you should tell people that! Make a video, like you always did."

"Why bother? No one would believe me."

"I believe you," her dad said.

Penelope sniffed. She knew her dad meant well, but he was right—he didn't get it. To say he was a technophobe was an understatement. The intricacies of the Internet were lost on him. The swift and righteous ire of the Internet was just something he would never get.

But Penelope did, all too well. She knew it wasn't as simple as going online and telling her side—people had already made up their minds about her. Every fan, every friend, everyone she had ever interacted with...

"You might be the only one," she said, at last.

Her dad was scowling now. "Well, you shouldn't just give up. Ghost and monsters are... they're your thing. You shouldn't let them ruin this for you."

"Too late," Penelope sighed, turning to stare out the window again. At this moment, she'd be quite happy if she never saw another ghost or monster ever again.

They turned off the highway again, this time onto a dirt road that led into the forest. Almost immediately her father pulled the truck over.

"Is this right?" he mumbled to himself. He pulled out his trusty paper map and the directions he had scribbled onto a small notepad. "It says the first left turn on Moonshine Road..."

"Do you want me to look it up?" Penelope asked.

In addition to his mistrust of modern technology, her father didn't 'believe' in GPS... which meant they often got lost. Usually, Penelope would look the directions up, just in case, but her phone was in the depths of her bag.  Still, she could dig it out and brave the hateful messages long enough to check the map.

"No, no," her father said quickly, stuffing the map away again. "This has to be the way."

Penelope narrowed her eyes at him as he started the truck up again and pulled back onto the road. The truck bumped around as her father drove further down the uneven road. Soon enough, the road split off again, turning further into the forest. Her father slowed the truck, coming to a stop just before the turn. A sign was just off the road, marking the turn.

Moonlight Campground, it read in shiny, bright colours.

"I thought you said you had got a private cabin," Penelope said.

"I-I did," her dad replied. "When I found it online, it said..." He sputtered, his cheeks reddening under his stubble.

Penelope stifled a sigh to spare her dad's feelings. She hadn't asked questions when her dad had told her he got a cabin for them—she was just glad to have somewhere to lay low for a bit. She had thought he had borrowed the place from a buddy of his, one of the hardcore hunter types that had a rustic little place out in the middle of nowhere. She had expected something in the middle of nowhere, with no neighbours except for wildlife... Not some family-friendly campground.

"It's fine, Dad," Penelope said, but she wasn't able to scrub all the exasperation from her voice. Thinking of him bumbling around online, trying to rent a place, gave her a headache. She made a mental note to check his credit card in case he had entered it anywhere weird. "This will be fine. Let's just go see it."

"Sorry, kid," her dad said, putting the truck into gear again and pulling off into the side road.

Almost immediately the forest parted and opened up into a large campground. A well-groomed dirt road wound around a wide patch of grass with brightly coloured playground equipment in the centre. On the right of the road's circle were several cement pads with hook-ups for water and electricity, ready for RVs and motorhomes—a few were already parked in place. On the left, a row of small A-frame cabins with black metal roofs and shiny, new-looking windows. They were, at least, well-spaced with a few trees between them, but it was still a far cry from the secluded setting that Penelope had been promised.

"Man, they really don't do camping like they used to, huh?" her dad remarked as he took a right onto the circular drive. The motorhomes they passed were massive, bigger than some of the rock band touring busses she'd seen in the city. Back when they'd spend their summers camping, before her mother got sick, they had used a small second-hand trailer that barely fit the three of them.

Her dad stopped again, this time at the other end of the circle, in front of a proper house. It was like someone had plucked a small mid-century split-level from some suburbian street and plopped it down in the middle of the campground. It had a sign hanging on its front door that read: FRONT OFFICE.

"Wait here," her dad said, turning off the truck. He hopped out and headed for the house's door, but before he could get far, it opened.

An older woman stepped out, her silver-gray hair cropped close to her head. Her cheeks were both rosy and tanned and she was bundled in a thick flannel jacket.

"You must be Craig Haywood," she called with a wave.

"Yes, that's me!" her dad replied with excitement, his hand shooting up like his ticket had been picked for a 50/50 draw. "Beth?"

"That's right," she said. "Glad you found the place okay. Here, let me you show you the cabin. It's just the first one, here." She pointed at the cabin that was closest to the house. "You can pull in alongside it, then I'll give you the tour."

"Right," her dad said, doubling back to the truck. He hopped in and started it up, pulling only a few feet further, into the designated parking spot beside the house. He put it into park again, then stopped, to give Penelope a heartening smile.

"Maybe it won't be so bad after all," he said. "It looks pretty nice, doesn't it?"

Penelope forced a smile and nodded. She didn't have the heart to tell him that it wasn't the cabin that bothered her. It was the other people who'd be staying at the campground, too. Too many people, too many eyes...

"Bring the food, will you?" he asked as hopped out of the truck once more. He headed for Beth, who was already standing by the cabin door.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Penelope gathered the now-cold bag of food in her arms and pushed open the passenger-side door.

"This your daughter?" Beth said as Penelope came to join them.

"Yes, this is Pe—" her father began, but stopped, turning to look at her. His eyes seemed tense with something Penelope couldn't make out. "P-Peaseblossom."

Penelope stared at her dad.

"Peaseblossom?" Beth said, raising her eyebrows. "Like, from the play? That's, uh, quite the unique name."

"Hah, yeah," her dad said, reddening again. "It was her mother's favourite."

Beth just shrugged. "Go by anything, uh, shorter?"

"No, she hates nicknames," her dad answered for her. He turned back to her, enough so that Beth couldn't see, and mouthed, Sorry, to Penelope.

Penelope just blinked at him. She had no idea what her father was thinking, but it was too late to correct it now.

"Well, I certainly won't forget your name, Peaseblossom," Beth said. "Nice to meet you, all the same. But let's take a look, shall we?" She took out a set of keys and unlocked the door before stepping inside.

Her dad went to follow, but Penelope grabbed his arm to stop him.

"What the hell was that?" Penelope hissed under her breath. "Peaseblossom?!"

"I panicked!" her dad admitted in a whisper. "I know you wanted to lay low so I thought you might not want to give your name and I... I was thinking of your mom and I-I couldn't think of anything else!"

Penelope would've been angrier if it wasn't so ridiculous. But since it was just for a little while, in a town where she knew no one, a place she'd probably never return to... She could live as 'Peaseblossom' for a bit.

She laughed to herself and shook her head. Her dad was hopeless. "Well, fine. Guess I'm Peaseblossom, then."

"Well, there's one silver lining," he said.

"What?"

"That's the first time I've heard you laugh in five days," he said with a victorious smile, before turning to head into the house.

Penelope paused on the step for a little longer.

Five days.

It had only been five whole days since her life had been blown apart.

It seemed like so much longer.

She followed her dad into the cabin.

Have you ever visited somewhere with a local legend?