The summer they were eleven, they killed a man and buried his body in a cave. Since then, every year, one summer night has marked a ritual: a ritual never to forget, and never to betray. Five years have passed. Their sixteenth summer. The body, now a skeleton. Unraveled lies. A faceless blackmailer. The phone rings, and a life is torn apart. The bones, like their crime: never rotting, never fading away. Now, a living hell begins.
The dead cannot speak. The blackmailer they chased already dead, freedom at last from the lady of the park provides little solace as the four friends find themselves on thin ice. Sealing up darkness with darkness, painting over lies with lies. Now one overlooked reaches out for their tangled web. They cannot efface the crime, and so they can at least finish this with their own hands… Holding the light of the truth against the dark of the culprit, in place of an apology, I will find you.