CHAPTER 1 — THE TWINS WHO WERE WAITING FOR ME
The movement between the trees lasted less than a second.
A shadow.
Too large to be a deer.
Too quiet to be a bear.
It vanished behind a cluster of ancient pines before I could make out its shape.
Every instinct screamed at me to get the girls inside.
"Come with me," I said, forcing calm into my voice.
Emma didn't move.
Neither did Ella.
Instead, both stared into the woods as though they were waiting for permission from someone I couldn't see.
"Girls?"
Emma finally looked at me.
"He's watching."
A cold wave rolled through my body.
"Who?"
She slowly raised one trembling finger toward the forest.
"The man who comes after dark."
The mountain suddenly felt ten degrees colder.
I glanced across the clearing.
Nothing.
Only fading sunlight filtering through endless trees.
The logical part of my mind insisted these children were frightened, hungry, and probably imagining things.
The rest of me remembered that Olivia had once told me the mountains always kept secrets.
"You'll never know everything living out here," she'd laughed one autumn evening while we sat on this very porch.
At the time, I'd teased her for believing old Appalachian legends.
Now I wasn't laughing.
I reached into my SUV and grabbed every snack I had.
Protein bars.
Trail mix.
Bottled water.
The twins didn't grab them the way starving children usually would.
Instead, Emma carefully broke each protein bar exactly in half.
Half for herself.
Half for Ella.
Even after I offered them more.
As if someone had taught them that tomorrow's meal was never guaranteed.
Watching them nearly broke me.
"How long have you been here?"
Ella counted silently on her fingers.
Emma answered.
"Lots of sleeps."
"Did your mother leave you here?"
No answer.
"Do you know where she is?"
Again, silence.
Then Emma quietly asked,
"Is Olivia really gone?"
My breath caught.
"Why do you know her?"
The twins exchanged another one of those strange synchronized looks.
"She brought blankets."
"Medicine."
"Soup."
"She sang."
My knees almost gave out.
Olivia had been dead for three years.
These girls looked no older than seven.
How long had she known them?
Why had she never mentioned them?
The questions multiplied faster than I could ask them.
I unlocked the cottage.
Dust floated through the evening sunlight.
Everything remained exactly where Olivia had left it.
Her books still lined the shelves.
Her hiking boots still rested beside the fireplace.
The faded quilt her grandmother had sewn covered the old couch.
The twins froze the moment they stepped inside.
Emma smiled.
A real smile.
"The flower lady's house."
Flower lady.
That's what they had called Olivia.
Tears burned behind my eyes.
Olivia always planted wildflowers around the property.
Every spring she filled the mountain with color.
I had assumed she did it for herself.
Maybe she'd been doing it for these children.
While the girls devoured bowls of warm chicken soup, I searched every cabinet for clues.
Anything.
A letter.
A photograph.
A name.
Nothing.
Until I opened Olivia's old writing desk.
Inside lay a weathered notebook tied with blue ribbon.
My heart pounded.
Her journal.
The final pages had been ripped out.
Only one loose note remained.
In Olivia's unmistakable handwriting were seven words.
When Ethan comes, trust the girls completely.
I stared at the sentence until my vision blurred.
She couldn't have written this after she died.
Could she?
Before I could think further—
Three slow knocks echoed against the front door.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
The twins instantly turned pale.
Emma whispered only two words.
"Don't answer."
May you like
Then every light outside the cottage suddenly went dark.
And someone began slowly walking across the wooden porch.
