CHAPTER 3: The Trail Only Olivia Knew
I barely slept.
Every creak of the old cottage sounded like footsteps on the porch.
Every gust of mountain wind made Olivia's copper wind chime sing the same soft notes I'd heard a thousand times before.
At 5:42 a.m., I gave up trying.
The sun had just begun to paint the Blue Ridge Mountains with pale shades of gold. A thin layer of mist drifted across the meadow behind the cottage, turning the forest into something that looked almost unreal.
I quietly brewed coffee.
Strong.
Black.
The way Olivia always teased me for drinking it.
"One day your heart is going to file a complaint," she'd laugh.
For the first time in three years...
The memory made me smile instead of cry.
It lasted exactly three seconds.
Then I remembered the two little girls sleeping in my guest room.
And the impossible thing they had said.
Olivia said you would come.
I heard soft footsteps behind me.
Emma stood in the doorway, rubbing one sleepy eye.
"Good morning."
She nodded politely.
"Good morning, Mr. Ethan."
"You can just call me Ethan."
She looked uncertain.
"Our mom said grown-ups like respect."
I couldn't argue with that.
"You hungry?"
A tiny smile appeared.
"Always."
By the time pancakes were ready, Ella had wandered into the kitchen too.
Neither girl spoke much while they ate.
They weren't shy.
They were cautious.
Like children who had learned that every sentence could be dangerous.
When breakfast was over, I spread a county map across the kitchen table.
"Girls..."
They both looked up immediately.
"I want to ask you something."
Emma nodded.
"The trail."
I pointed toward the woods behind the cottage.
"Why did you look at it yesterday?"
The twins exchanged one of those silent conversations only identical siblings seemed able to have.
Finally, Ella answered.
"Because that's where she waited."
My pulse quickened.
"Who?"
"Olivia."
The room became perfectly still.
I forced myself to stay calm.
"When did you meet her?"
Emma counted on her fingers.
"Lots of sunsets."
"What does that mean?"
"She came after the birds got quiet."
My heart skipped.
Olivia had always taken that trail just before sunset.
Every evening.
Without fail.
"Did she bring you here?"
Both girls shook their heads.
"No."
"Then who did?"
Neither answered.
Instead...
Emma reached into the pocket of her faded dress.
She carefully unfolded a tiny square of paper.
"I almost forgot."
She handed it to me.
"It's yours."
The paper was old.
Folded so many times the edges were beginning to tear.
I opened it slowly.
My breath caught.
The handwriting belonged to Olivia.
There was no doubt.
I had watched those looping letters fill birthday cards, grocery lists, and little notes tucked into my lunch for twelve years.
The note contained only one sentence.
If you're reading this, they found Ethan before they found me. Trust the girls. Follow the trail.
My knees nearly gave out.
The paper slipped from my fingers onto the kitchen table.
This wasn't possible.
Olivia had died three years ago.
The official report said her car skidded off a rain-soaked mountain road.
There had been no mystery.
No investigation.
Just a tragic accident.
So how...
How had she written a message clearly intended for today?
"Ethan?"
Ella's voice pulled me back.
"She said you'd believe us after you saw that."
I looked up slowly.
"When did she give you this?"
Emma answered without hesitation.
"Last summer."
The room tilted.
"Last..."
My voice failed.
"Last summer?"
She nodded.
"The lady with the yellow scarf."
My stomach tightened.
Olivia owned exactly one yellow scarf.
It had been buried with her.
I stood so quickly my chair tipped backward.
"Girls..."
"This is important."
"Are you absolutely sure it was Olivia?"
Emma looked almost offended.
"She knew your song."
"My song?"
"The one you always sang when you cooked."
Without thinking...
I quietly hummed three notes.
Emma smiled immediately.
"That's the one."
Blood rushed in my ears.
I had never sung that song in front of anyone else.
It wasn't even a real song.
Just something I made up in the kitchen because Olivia thought it was ridiculous.
No stranger could have known it.
None of it made sense.
Unless...
Someone very close to Olivia had met these girls.
Someone who knew us both.
Someone Olivia trusted enough to send here.
Ella suddenly stood.
"We should go now."
"Go where?"
She pointed toward the woods.
"The sun is high enough."
"What?"
"She said the light has to touch the big rock first."
I looked through the kitchen window.
A single shaft of sunlight had reached the granite boulder near the tree line.
The exact place where Olivia always paused before entering the forest.
A chill crawled down my spine.
I grabbed my hiking boots, a flashlight, bottled water, and my truck's emergency backpack.
Twenty minutes later, the three of us stood at the entrance to the narrow trail.
The path looked exactly as I remembered.
Tall pines.
Mountain laurels.
Moss-covered stones.
Everything untouched by time.
Emma reached for my hand.
"It's okay."
"You don't have to be scared."
I looked down at her.
"You knew I was scared?"
She gave a tiny nod.
"Olivia was scared the first time too."
We walked for nearly thirty minutes without speaking.
Birdsong echoed through the trees.
Somewhere nearby, a stream rushed over smooth rocks.
Then...
The twins stopped at exactly the same moment.
Neither spoke.
Neither moved.
They simply stared toward a circle of massive oak trees ahead.
In the center stood an enormous flat stone.
Olivia used to call it The Giant's Table.
She loved bringing picnics there.
"Why are we stopping?" I asked.
Emma pointed beneath the stone.
"There."
I knelt.
At first I saw nothing.
Then...
A rusted iron ring hidden beneath thick moss.
Half buried in the earth.
I pulled.
The stone shifted just enough to reveal a narrow wooden hatch underneath.
A hatch I had never seen before.
Cold air drifted up from below.
Along with the unmistakable smell of damp cedar.
Someone had built something beneath the mountain.
And judging by the fresh footprints in the mud...
Someone had been there recently.
Before I could react, a woman's frightened voice echoed up from the darkness beneath the hatch.
"Please..."
A long pause.
"If you're not with them..."
May you like
"Help us."
TO BE CONTINUED...
