The rescue team arrived late the next day, a battered jeep carrying two weary-looking men. They were surprised to find us, expecting lost hikers, not survivors of a plane crash. We stuck to our story, emphasizing our injuries and the need for medical attention. They took us to the small town, a collection of weathered buildings huddled against the mountains, a place seemingly untouched by time.
The hospital was a modest affair, but the staff was efficient and kind. They treated our injuries, asking few questions, seemingly accustomed to the isolation and the occasional oddity that came with it. As Alessandro and I recovered, a sense of unease settled over me. This town, though small, felt like a trap, a place where secrets could be easily buried.
One afternoon, while Alessandro was resti
