Signs of life

They moved closer. A fire pit lay cold, charred stones blackened with ash. Food wrappers crinkled, bottles toppled. Emily’s stomach sank. “This isn’t old,” she whispered.
Her voice trembled. “Someone lived here. Recently.” The words hung in the humid air. The jungle wasn’t abandoned. Whoever stayed here had left only moments, or days, behind.
Page 42 of 70


