She kept expecting to see some inkling of civilization. A power line. A pinprick of moving light in the sky that could only be an airplane. The distant hum of traffic. But as they wound their way through the towering trees, all Lydia saw was more nature, and all she heard were his footsteps crunching over the snow-dappled ground. It was hard not to keep stealing glances at him, but not once did she catch his eyes on her. They were always fixed onto the path ahead, his arms staunch and sure beneath her. It was both reassuring and terrifying, all in the space of the same breath.
Home turned out to be a break in the forest, its edges melting into the darkness so it was impossible to see exactly how large it was. In the center stood a one-story cabin with a covered porch running the length of
