The Borrowed Faces

In a peaceful lakeside town called Brindlehollow, people are known for their kindness, warmth, and impossible hospitality. No one locks their doors, neighbors share meals every week, and every greeting feels like a homecoming. It is the kind of town that makes you believe in goodness again. Seventeen-year-old Mara Silvers moves there after her mother's death, craving connection, comfort, and belonging. And she finds it—instantly. She is welcomed by cheerful neighbors, smiling classmates, and a radiant friendship circle who seem to know just what she needs. They remember her birthday, her favorite book, her mother's lullaby, even the smell of her old home by the sea. Everyone is thoughtful, considerate, and gently perfect. Almost too perfect. Then she notices something small. No one talks about their past. Not one photo exists of anyone's childhood. Every answer about "before" is vague, borrowed, rehearsed. Their care feels… manufactured. They finish her sentences. Laugh before she speaks. Cry before she feels sorrow. It's like they know her life before she tells it. It's like they studied her. One snowy evening, she finds something unsettling tucked into the pages of a borrowed library book: We remember you. But you must never remember us. The truth slowly cracks open: In this town, everyone mirrors what you need. They study your wounds, become your comfort, wear the faces of the friends you never had, and give you the version of love you always longed for. They are perfect friends—just not real ones. They don't like you. They don't hate you. They simply become what you need. They are not people. They are roles. And you are only welcome—until the day you want something real. Because in Brindlehollow, everyone is a good friend… But no one is a friend.