She thought it was nothing more than a delivery. But when the lock clicks, the towel loosens, and the only one standing there is the smirking boy next door, Hillary's world stumbles for a moment. Her body, her pride, and her sense of control are suddenly uncovered. What begins as a clumsy accident transforms into a slow, dangerous tension of silence and half-glances. She outwardly looks composed, but every reappearance of Timmy dissolves the distance between them. This isn't a love story. It's a haunting dressed as desire, and Hill’s Hole never lets its ghosts go.