Right then, from deep within the woods, a sound cut through the silence. It wasn’t the rustling of an animal or the scraping of branches. It was a whisper. A faint, drawn-out cry traveling through the trees:

"Ethan… help me…"

My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. That voice… no matter how many years had passed, no matter how distorted by distance and darkness, I knew it. It was Olivia.

Without a second thought, I yanked my high-powered flashlight from my jacket pocket, clicked it on, and lunged toward the trail. The beam sliced through the gnarly trees, illuminating thick patches of ground fog that were beginning to roll in. 

"Ethan, don’t go!"

The twins shouted in unison behind me, but my legs refused to listen to reason. For three years, I had lived in a prison of guilt, blaming myself for not being able to save my wife from her illness. Now, a wild, irrational spark of hope—or a deadly trap—was pulling me into the abyss.