Wet snow fell in large flakes, melting on her eyelashes. The silence of the Appalachian forest was deceptive, full of sounds for those who knew how to listen. Emily froze, staring at the silhouette among the trees.
A man was tied to a century-old pine with strong ropes, his head hanging limply on his chest. Her first thought was to retreat, hide in the thicket where they couldn’t find her. Grandpa taught her that strangers bring trouble.
But Grandpa wouldn’t say anything more; he hadn’t woken up three days ago when the morning painted their cabin with pink light. Emily took a cautious step forward. Then another.
The man wore expensive but torn clothes. His face was covered with stubble, dried blood crusted on his temple. Hearing the crunch of twigs, he lifted his head.
