I shut my eyes and drew a breath. Then another. Then a third, deeper one, trying to pull myself fully back into the present.
“He’s not here,” I whispered. “You’re all right.”
The past didn’t listen, but it loosened its grip enough for me to stand. I wiped at my cheeks and found them damp again. Great.
Trees: one. Emotional stability: zero.
I adjusted my backpack, took a deep breath, and stepped back onto the trail. Forward. Because the past only chased you if you stood still.
Or at least that’s what I was going to tell myself.
The twig snap was small, ordinary…a noise that happens a thousand times in any forest on any given day.
It still froze me in place.
It came from behind me, off to the left. It wasn’t loud, but it was obvious enough to cut through the muffled hush that had set
