The air tasted like wet pine needles and secrets. Kaylee pushed aside a curtain of trembling ferns, the dampness soaking into the knees of her worn jeans. Sunlight, fractured and weak, struggled through the dense New Hampshire canopy, painting the undergrowth in shifting patterns of gold and deep green shadow. It was quieter here, deep in the woods behind her rented cottage, the only sounds the rustle of unseen creatures...