Nathaniel stood frozen, his breath visible in the cold air, staring at the carved initials on the old oak tree. The message—*“Find me”—*seemed to pulse with an urgency he couldn’t ignore. His mind raced, but every logical part of him screamed that this was impossible. He hadn’t been here in over a decade, not since the night his brother had vanished. So how could this be? The initials, the handwriting—he hadn’t made those marks since they were kids.
He reached out a trembling hand, his fingers brushing against the rough bark, and for a brief moment, it felt like his brother’s presence was right there with him. The air seemed to vibrate with something unseen, something heavy that pressed against his chest, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.
“Nathaniel…”
The voice was clearer
