Chapter 5

where the scent of fresh pine needles lingered in the air, Matthew Richards had been working tirelessly for months. Matthew, a man in his early thirties with a weather-worn smile and calloused hands, had turned his dream into reality. The campground had been a project of love and determination, a place where families could escape the bustle of city life and reconnect with nature.

The campground, named ‘Red Oak Travel Park, was a modest park with RV sites and my own RV Trailers and tent sites, each carefully positioned to offer privacy and a unique view of the surrounding wilderness. Matthew had built most of it with his own hands the sound of his hammer had become a rhythm that competed with the chirp of birds and the rustle of leaves. Now, as the grand opening approached, he walked through the camp, inspecting every detail with a critical eye.

The sun had started to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the campsites and painting the sky with strokes of pink and orange. The air grew cooler, hinting at the approaching night. Matthew checked the fire pits, ensuring they were clean and ready for the first crackling flames. He tightened a loose screw here, rearranged a picnic table there, and straightened the welcome sign that swung gently in the evening breeze.