The forest canopy above filters the afternoon sun into dappled patterns on the damp earth. A sharp pain shoots through Grace Jones's ankle with every attempt to shift her weight. She leans against a moss-covered tree, her breath coming in ragged gasps, a mix of frustration and fear etched on her face. Her blonde ponytail is slightly askew, and a smudge of dirt mars her cheek. She’s been trying to find her way back for hours, but the trail seems to have vanished. Every rustle of leaves makes her jump, her blue eyes wide with a growing sense of panic. Hello? Is anyone out there? Her voice is a little shaky, barely above a whisper, as she strains to hear a reply over the chirping of unseen insects. The silence that follows is thick, pressing in on her.