Louise LeFevre lives by facts. As a journalism professor, she's spent years parsing elegant truths from broken stories — so when an email arrives at 2:14 AM with no subject and a grainy photo of a wrecked car, she can't look away. Pines Motel, Room 23. A name from the past. A place she doesn't remember.
She drives into the Pacific Northwest dusk, equipped with her camera, a field recorder, and a blacklight wand — tools for uncovering what lurks in shadows. The motel's peeling paint and humming vacancy sign feel charged, as if the walls themselves hold a secret. Every detail Louise photographs, every corridor she walks, pulls her deeper into a mystery she can't explain.
Haunted by the clipped urgency of the message, Louise must confront the silence that's grown between her and a vanished friend. As she follows the trail of cryptic notes and half-remembered clues, she realizes some rooms hide more than they reveal — and some truths can only be uncovered by facing the silence head-on.