Moonlit Hearts

The scent of pine was stronger here, mingling with the crisp bite of morning mist. Clara Hart rolled down the window of her beat-up truck as she wound her way through the forested roads of Pine Hollow, the small town nestled deep in the Pacific Northwest. Towering evergreens stood like ancient guardians, their branches heavy with dew. The air tasted different—cleaner, richer, tinged with something she couldn’t quite name. She smiled to herself, gripping the steering wheel tighter as she rounded a bend and the town came into view. Quaint, quiet, and ringed with misty mountains, Pine Hollow was the opposite of the crowded city she'd left behind. Exactly what she needed. The veterinary clinic stood at the edge of town, a cozy, cedar-shingled building with a hand-painted sign that read Hollow Creek Veterinary. Clara pulled into the gravel driveway, the crunch beneath her tires oddly comforting. Inside, the clinic smelled of antiseptic and lavender—the blend she used to soothe anxious animals. A calico cat in the waiting room blinked up at her from its carrier, unimpressed. “Morning, Sarge,” Clara said to the cat’s grumpy owner, a white-haired man in a flannel coat. “Let’s take a look at that paw.” She was in her element here, surrounded by animals and routine. It was peaceful. Safe. But Pine Hollow had a rhythm of its own, and Clara quickly learned it wasn’t just the animals that behaved strangely. By late afternoon, as she closed up the clinic, a sense of restlessness tugged at her. The sun dipped behind the trees, casting long shadows across the town. Clara grabbed her backpack and took the trail behind the clinic—the one that led into the woods. The forest swallowed her in quiet. Birdsong flitted through the branches, and the damp earth softened her steps. She didn’t realize how far she'd gone until the trail narrowed, veering toward a brook glistening with moonlight. That’s when she saw him. A man stood alone at the water’s edge, unmoving. Tall, with dark hair and a long coat, he looked carved from shadow. He didn’t turn, but Clara felt the weight of his presence like static in the air. “Didn’t mean to intrude,” she said, voice cautious but steady. He finally turned. His eyes—storm-grey, unreadable—met hers, and Clara’s breath hitched. There was something about him. Not just handsome, but haunted. As if part of him wasn’t fully here. “You didn’t,” he said. His voice was low, rough like gravel. “Just... didn’t expect company.” “I’m Clara. I just moved here. Thought I’d explore a little.” He nodded, as if that explained everything. “I’m Liam.” For a moment, neither spoke. The brook murmured beside them, the woods whispering secrets Clara couldn’t understand. “Well, Liam,” she said, backing toward the trail again, “maybe I’ll see you around.” He didn’t answer, just watched her go with that unreadable gaze. Clara felt it on her back the whole way home. Something about him pulled at her. And deep in her gut, she knew: this town held more than mist and trees. Something was waiting in the shadows. And she’d just stepped into its world.