The forest path behind our house glows under the late afternoon sun, pines weaving a tapestry of light and shadow. I’m nineteen, home from college, dragged by my eighteen-year-old sister, Kylie, for a dog walk with Max and Bella. Last summer’s secret touches in the guest room pulse in my memory, her teasing glances and bold moves stirring a restless heat. In this quiet, pine-scented haven, with the dogs bounding ahead, the woods hum with the allure of something daring, urging us toward a forbidden edge.