I walked back toward the cabin, my boots crunching softly on the frozen gravel.

Inside, the living room was quiet, lit only by the embers dying in the stone fireplace.

I sat at the pine table and drafted a quick reply to Sarah, attaching the county’s own environmental map of the protected watershed.

*They are in violation of the environmental setbacks,* I wrote. *I am not signing anything.*

I clicked send and leaned back in the chair, listening to the old wood of the cabin settle in the wind.

The silence did not last long.

Outside, the sound of a vehicle approaching made me sit up straight.

It was a single engine, moving fast up the steep gravel incline of Cedar Hollow Road.

I stood up and walked to the window, pulling the lace curtain back.

A pair of headlights cut through the dark pines, bouncing wildly as the car hit the deep ruts in the driveway.

It was Trevor’s black SUV.

He had come back alone.

I watched him park near my porch, his headlights remaining on, casting long, stark shadows across the front of the cabin.