The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Stef was short of breath when she stopped at the edge of the driveway mid-jog and noticed the slight flicker of light. A brief pang of worry flashed across her face when she thought of the fire there a few years ago, a few kids had left candles burning during a party and one of them didn't make it out alive.

Since then, the story around the house had grown and she'd had to chase curious explorers off more than once from the condemned mess by calling the police. But it was late and it was starting to get dark, so despite her better conscience she turned to finish her jog home. Whoever it was in the remnants of the cabin could wait until the morning, a few harmless kids having an end of the year party wouldn't be able to light a fire when it was so damp out anyway.

Stef's neighborhood sat mostly empty this close to the fall; the homes in the area were seasonal residences for vacation-goers so even a party this late was a bit strange but not totally unheard of. Stef was the only person that lived here full time looking after things in the off-season after all the vacationers had fled. Stef had grown up just across the lake and she would stay here until they eventually buried her in the plot she'd reserved next to her parents in the local cemetery over on 4th street.

Her cabin was well-lit when she arrived out front and fished her house key out of her now sweaty sports bra. With a loud click of her stubborn lock she was kicking off her shoes and collapsing onto her sofa. Soft music from an artist she didn't recognize was playing through the stereo from her kitchen. She wondered briefly which would happen first, her playlist would run out of songs or she would get up to shower but, before she could find out, her stomach intervened.

Slower, muscles now stiff, she pushed herself up and made her way into the small kitchen. Pulling open the fridge she cursed herself for not picking up groceries when she went into town earlier that day. She'd just had too much on her plate after closing down the Ferris family's house.

Reaching over to her stereo she picked up her cell phone and flicked open her app for meal delivery services, swiping through the local options until she found her favorite pizza place. That would do in a pinch. Two clicks later she had an order on the way and she dropped her phone back on the stereo charger, turning off the music in the process.

Stef half walked, half limped, back over to her couch and plopped down on the sofa. Picking up her remote she flicked on her smart TV and settled in to watch a movie while she waited for her order. Happy for the convenience of the new delivery service.

About halfway into her movie, she hears her phone goes off from the kitchen. Stef gets up and walks back over. Swiping up she reopens the app. "Your driver is making one delivery along the way," she reads out loud in a sing-song voice and then checks the map to watch his real time progress. Who was still in the area this late in the season she wondered but then the map pointed to the abandoned cabin and she couldn't stop a small chuckle, the little party-goers were hungry, before scooting back over to watch her movie.

###

Twenty minutes go by and the pizza still hasn't arrived.

Forty minutes go by and the pizza is still no where to be found.

Angry, Stef swipes up to open her phone again and reopens her app. The map flashes across her screen and she notices with a jolt that the driver's car is marked in front of her house. Opening the chat, she types in a message, it's the cabin with the basketball net out front for the driver. A second later, the text underneath flashes read. He doesn't reply.