I used to think I had it all—no stress, no struggle, and a life wrapped in comfort like a warm blanket. My bed was soft, my schedule empty, and my dad always picked up the pieces whenever I stumbled. But one morning shattered that illusion. The curtains yanked open with a screech, sunlight pierced through the room, and my dad’s voice cut deeper than the glare.
“Get up,” he snapped, his disappointment heavier than any blanket I could pull over my head. What followed was a speech I’d heard a hundred times—how he built his life from nothing, how I took it all for granted. I fired back like always, and that’s when everything changed. The next thing I knew, I was dumped in the middle of nowhere, following a dirt path through the woods to a cabin that smelled like a home-cooked dream and held a stranger with a familiar edge. He said his name was Jack—and he said this was going to be fun…