She fled into the wilderness to forget how she lost her child. Five years later, at her gate—a lost little girl.
The cedars rustled overhead as if trying to warn of something, their mighty branches swaying with the gusts, weaving a mysterious, almost mystical music. Liza had grown used to their language—the hiss in the wind, the creak of powerful trunks, the quiet whisper that told her stories through long winter evenings. Five years in this … Read more