Abby shifted around uncomfortably. "What do you mean, getting closer?"

JP looked up at the window. "Whatever these thoughts are, whoever they belong to, they're nearby. Close."

"How close?" Riley asked. JP thought for a moment, mumbled something. Then he shook his head.

"I don't know. I only know it's not far."

"Well, what range does your power usually have?"

"A few dozen feet. Less indoors."

"I... really think we should tell Sadie about this." Abby finally said.

"That's a great idea," Riley joked sarcastically. "Hey, Sadie, JP is hearing voices and they're coming for us."

Abby rolled her eyes. "Obviously not like that."

"Then what do you suggest?"

Abby shrugged. Truthfully, she didn't know either. "I... just know we're safe here. If we stick together."

"It's just a matter of time." JP mumbled. "Whatever's coming is coming, and soon. I'm not going to say a word, but you, Abby... you should at least tell Sadie about what you saw. She knows this place better than anyone."

"I'll think about it."

---

Riley had already teleported back up to Autumn's treehouse. Abby however was sitting on the edge of the wooden bridge that connected her treehouse and the platform with Sadie's and the others, watching the snow fall. Autumn's house was above them, in the tallest tree, and she'd pulled the rope ladder up so nobody could bother them. Marigold was tending to her plants on the other side of camp, the only indication that she was there being an occasional sneeze.

JP's comments had unnerved her, and the stoic faces of the presidents in the distance didn't exactly help quell that anxiety. She'd expected them to turn and look at her any second now, but of course, they stayed put.

From where camp was, they could easily see both the monument and the viewing platform. Their homes were nestled neatly into the Black Hills forest, with some of the houses even bolted to the rock face behind them. Mount Rushmore itself was enormous, so nobody would notice them unless they had a very keen eye. They'd not be found, at least not for a while, and in spring they'd be hidden even better when the trees regained their leaves.

Abby pulled on the drawstrings of her hoodie. The costume did a lot to help with the windchill, but her cheeks were still rosy and she could easily see her own breath. She didn't even want to think what was going through her parents' minds, her friends, her sister. There had to be some way to let them know she was okay.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jacob said. Abby flinched. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no, it's okay." She moved over a bit so Jacob could sit down next to her. "I... it feels weird being here."

"Homesick?"

"I guess." Abby shrugged. Of course, Jacob was right on the mark. "I just wonder how they're all doing."

"Your mother?"

"And my father. And my sister. My friends at school." Abby buried her face in her hands. "They must be worried to death."

"You could always send them a letter."

Abby scoffed. "Thanks."

"No, I mean it. I have stamps and paper in my treehouse. Gotta mail in my tuition every semester."

"And you'd-"

"Course. If I had a family, I'm sure I'd miss them too."

Abby looked over to him. "You don't? Not even parents?"

He shook his head. "No. Orphan. That, and nobody wants to be friends with the weirdo math nerd."

Abby just shrugged. "I dunno. I kinda think math is cool."

"You don't have to-"

"No, I do. It's my favourite subject."

"No offence, Abby, but there's liking math, and then there's being able to prove the Riemann hypothesis on a napkin. We're... not the same."

"Oh. I guess."

Abby pulled her knees up to her chest, watching another snowflake land on her boot. "Still. Must be lonely."

"Sometimes." Jacob adjusted his glasses, and Abby noticed his eyes weren't glowing - he wasn't calculating anything, just talking. "But then I found this place. Found people who didn't think I was a freak for seeing the world in numbers."

"What's it like? Seeing everything in numbers, I mean."

Jacob was quiet for a moment, considering. "It's like... imagine you're looking at a painting. But instead of just seeing colours and shapes, you see every brush stroke, every layer of paint, the exact angles and proportions that make it work. Except it's not just paintings - it's everything. The arch of a snowflake's path through the air, the precise curve of a tree branch, how light reflects off fresh snow..." He gestured to the forest around them. "Right now, I can see the exact distance between every tree, calculate the load-bearing capacity of each branch, understand the precise geometric patterns of how the snow is accumulating. It's... overwhelming sometimes."

"That's amazing," Abby said finally. "How do you ever get anything done? I'd just want to stare at everything all day."

"That's kind of why I designed the treehouses the way I did. Each one follows the same mathematical principles we just talked about. Even the spacing between them." He pointed up at the network of platforms and bridges. "Once you see it, it's kind of hard to unsee."

"Is that why they're so stable?"

"Partly. That and careful load calculations. If I had better materials, proper support distribution, and-" He stopped himself. "Sorry. I'm rambling."

"No, it's interesting! Really." Abby meant it. "Much better than thinking about... other things."

Jacob gave her a careful look. "Like what happened when you teleported last night?"

Abby froze. "How did you-"

"I didn't. But something's been bothering you since then, and you keep looking at the mountain like you're expecting it to do something."

"It creeps me out. The presidents."

"They are amazingly gaudy, aren't they?"

"To say the least."

He got up. "Wanna go for a walk? I could use a break from studying."

"You were studying?"

He shrugged. "I have a bachelor's thesis due next month."

"Oh? What's the topic?"

"A Definitive Proof of the Collatz Conjecture: Resolving the 3n+1 Problem Through Advanced Number Theory and Novel Mathematical Techniques." He recited the title of his paper.

"I think I've heard of-"

"...with Implications for Prime Number Distribution and Computational Complexity, Including Rigorous Theoretical Frameworks and Extensive Numerical Validations."

"Bit of a mouthful, isn't it?"

"If it gets me the degree. It's not the most difficult thing I could write about." He helped Abby up. "I'm leaving some room for a master's and a doctorate."

They climbed down the rope ladder to the clearing. It was still snowing, but the costume and the hoodie was warm enough for now. "Why stay here?" Abby asked. "I mean, your power is easy enough to hide, right?"

"Here it is. But in a city? All the buildings, all the streets, corners, cables, traffic lights? It's overwhelming if you see the engineering drawings for everything." Jacob kicked at the snow as they walked. "I get lost in the numbers."

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, following what looked like a game trail through the woods. The snow crunched under their feet, and their breath made little clouds in the cold air.

"Look," Jacob said suddenly, stopping. He pointed at a snowflake that had landed on his sleeve. "See how the crystal structure forms? There's a mathematical concept called the Koch snowflake - it's a fractal that perfectly describes how these form. The ratio between each branch is-" His eyes started to glow cyan as he calculated. "1.62, approximately, the golden ratio, extending infinitely inward at precisely 60-degree angles..."

Abby watched as he became completely absorbed in the geometry of the snowflake, muttering calculations under his breath. After a few moments, he shook his head as if clearing it.

"Sorry. That happens sometimes."

"It's cool." She meant it.

They continued walking, and Abby noticed they were following a specific path - one that curved away from the monument but still kept it in sight.

"You designed this trail too, didn't you?"

"Optimal sightlines while still having it look natural enough for the rangers not to be suspicious." He confirmed. The path split, one leading to the monument, the other - barely more than footsteps in the snow - leading to the rock face. "Hm."

"What?"

"This wasn't here before. This path."

A shiver ran down Abby's spine. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I've been living here for over a year, and this wasn't here before." He kneeled down and touched the trails in the snow. "This is recent." He walked down the path, his pace quickened.

"I- I thought Autumn-"

"-monitored everything, yes. So did I." The path curved around back into the clearing. "Shit, whoever was here made it to camp. Not good. Not good."

"What do you think-"

Jacob's eyes started to glow again. "One set of prints. Adult-sized. Not winter boots, though."

"Could it have been the rangers?"

"Doesn't look like rangers. They have boots. These... aren't boot prints." The trail snaked around back of Marigold's treehouse, past it, and to the original cabin. Sadie's original cabin, built against the face of the cliff.

"She's closed off the cabin when I built the common house with Jesse. This is just... storage now." He opened the back door of the cabin. It smelled musty, old. The light didn't work and the windows were boarded up.

"It doesn't seem like there's anything here." Abby said. "Who would come here?"

"This place is all wrong." Jacob mumbled. "This wall wasn't this deep before." He pressed against the back wall, and to Abby's surprise, it gave in. The wood panel fell to the ground, and revealed a narrow passage... into the rock.

"You didn't know this was here?"

Jacob shook his head. "No." He reached into a rusty toolbox and pulled out a searchlight, painted in yellow, with a United States National Park Service asset tag on the side. He flicked it on, and a bright cone of light blasted against the wall of the cabin.

"Should we be really going in there?"

"If you want to stay, stay." He climbed inside the passage. "I for one don't like the idea of there being a hidden cave under where I live."

The tunnel was narrow - barely wide enough for them to walk single file. Jacob led the way, his flashlight beam revealing rough-hewn walls that looked like they'd been carved decades ago.

"This doesn't make sense," Jacob muttered, his eyes glowing as he calculated. "The angle is all wrong. We should be hitting solid rock, but..." He ran his hand along the wall. "These tool marks. They're old. Maybe from when they first carved the monument."

The path widened considerably, before it opened up into a large cave, at least twenty feet wide and so deep the light cone didn't even reach the end. "Hello?" Abby called out, just to check if there was an echo. There was, and Jacob flinched.

"What are you doing?!"

"I- I'm pretty sure we're alone, Jake" she answered, if only to reassure herself.

"I hope so." He let the cone of light wander. "I'm not exactly-"

"Stop." Abby said and pointed at the wall. Something was staring into the darkness.

Almost paralysed by fear, Jacob moved his searchlight over the carving. The beam caught the edge of a high, aristocratic cheekbone, casting harsh shadows beneath. As the beam travelled, it revealed eyes that seemed to follow its movement - deep-set and knowing, holding centuries of unspoken judgement. The nose was proud, almost hawkish - beneath it a mouth set in an expression that could either a smile or a sneer, depending on how the shadows would fall.

"What the..." Abby said. "That's..."

"Thomas Jefferson." Jacob said and moved the light further down. Text was engraved below him. "Third president of the United States."

"He was chosen to draft one of history's greatest documents, the Declaration of Independence." Abby read out loud. "What is this place?"

"I've read about it." Jacob said. Of course he had. "The hall of records. Part of the original Mount Rushmore plans, but never finished." He swept the torch's light cone around the hall, revealing the other faces. Washington, Lincoln, and a half-finished Roosevelt.

"Why'd they not complete it?"

"I dunno." Jacob whispered. "This is... creepy as hell."

"I think we should get out of here." Abby said, a creeping feeling of dread washing over her as the three and a half presidents stared at them. "We gotta tell the others."

"Agreed." Jacob turned around, moving towards the exit corridor. "Can you teleport us out?"

"I can try." Abby took Jacob's hand and visualised her treehouse. Her bed. Riley's bed. The string lights, the worn table. The world started to warp around her again, stretching and pulling around her, until it snapped back into place. When she opened her eyes again, they hadn't moved.

"Abby." Jacob said, very quietly. "Forget about it. Forget the teleport. Let's just... move."

"No, no, I can do it." Abby replied and focused again.

"Abby, don't." His voice was trembling with fear.

"Why, what-" She turned around. Jacob had pointed the light at the walls, his hand shaking. Abby's blood froze in her veins.

The presidents were no longer staring straight ahead.

All four heads - even Roosevelt's unfinished visage - had turned to look at Abby and Jacob.

"What the f-" Abby whispered.

Jacob grabbed her by the wrist and ran. The corridor was right ahead, and he was making a run for it. He lost his grip on the searchlight - it clattered to the floor, and the light went out.

The end of the corridor was in sight. Without looking back, he dragged Abby behind him, through the panel gap in the cabin, out the back door, onto the clearing.

"What- what WAS that?!" Abby panted.

"I... I don't know" Jacob gasped. "Fucking... terrifying, is what."

Abby leaned against the greenhouse next to the cabin, wiping sweat from her forehead. "You... you think my teleport-"

Jacob shook his head. "I don't know anything right now."

The door to the greenhouse opened and Marigold looked out, at her two campmates, exhausted and hyperventilating. "You two okay?" She sniffled.

Abby shook her head. "No." She looked up the treehouse complex. "I'm calling a meeting. Now."

"What- what happened?" Marigold asked as Abby and Jacob scrambled up the rope ladder.

"The mountain knows we're here."