Frosted Hearts

Chapter 8: Shadows in the Forest

Ethan pulled Annie behind a massive tree, their breaths coming in harsh gasps as the echoes of the gunshot faded into the snowy silence. His hand gripped hers tightly, steadying her even as his own pulse raced.

“Did you see where it came from?” Annie whispered, her voice trembling.

Ethan shook his head, peeking around the tree cautiously. “No, but whoever it is, they’re trying to scare us—or worse. We need to get out of here.”

“But what about the journal?” she asked, clutching the leather-bound book to her chest. “This could be the key to everything!”

“We’re not leaving it behind,” Ethan assured her. “But we won’t get any answers if we don’t make it back.”

Another shot cracked through the air, hitting a tree just a few feet from their hiding spot. Splinters flew, and Annie stifled a cry. Ethan’s jaw tightened. He scanned the area, trying to calculate the shooter’s position.

“Stay low,” he whispered, guiding her as they crouched and began moving through the underbrush. The snow muffled their footsteps, but every creak of a branch felt deafening in the tense silence.

The forest, once a serene escape, now felt like a labyrinth of danger. The towering trees offered cover, but they also blocked any clear view of their pursuer. Ethan’s mind raced. Who could it be? Someone connected to the old families? Or was this a hired enforcer, determined to keep them from uncovering the secrets of Cedar Grove?

They had almost reached the edge of the restricted land when a figure emerged from the shadows. Clad in a heavy coat and hat, the person’s face was obscured, but the gleaming barrel of a rifle was unmistakable.

“Stop right there!” the man barked, his voice rough and commanding.

Annie froze, but Ethan stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body. “We’re not here to cause trouble,” he said, keeping his tone calm despite the fear tightening in his chest. “We’re just trying to understand what’s going on with this land.”

The man laughed harshly. “You think you can just waltz in here and dig up the past? Some things are better left buried.”

“Why?” Annie demanded, finding her voice. “What are you trying to hide?”

The man’s grip on the rifle tightened, and for a moment, Ethan thought he might fire. But then the man shook his head, as if dismissing them as foolish intruders.

“Turn around and walk away,” he growled. “If you know what’s good for you.”

Ethan held his ground. “We’re not leaving without answers.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, his finger twitching on the trigger. Before he could react further, the sound of a distant shout broke the standoff.

“Sheriff’s coming!” a voice called from somewhere in the woods.

The man hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. It was all the opening Ethan needed. He grabbed Annie’s hand and bolted, pulling her toward the direction of the voice. The man swore behind them, but no more shots were fired as they sprinted out of the restricted zone.

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Safe for Now

They didn’t stop running until they reached the main road, where a familiar vehicle was parked. Sheriff Daniels stepped out, his imposing figure radiating authority.

“Are you two alright?” he asked, his eyes scanning them for injuries.

Ethan nodded, though he was still catching his breath. “We’re fine, but someone was shooting at us in the restricted land.”

The sheriff’s expression darkened. “I figured as much when I saw fresh tracks heading that way. Did you see who it was?”

“No,” Annie said, holding up the journal. “But we found this. It belonged to Richard Miller. I think it might explain why that land is so important.”

Daniels gestured for them to get into his truck. “Let’s get you out of the cold first. Then we’ll talk.”

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Uncovering the Journal

Back at the station, the warmth of the sheriff’s office was a welcome relief. Ethan and Annie sat across from Daniels as they flipped through the journal together. The handwriting was meticulous, though some of the ink had faded with time.

“It’s a record of the Millers’ dealings with the Clarkes and Lanes,” Ethan explained. “But there’s more. Look here.”

He pointed to an entry dated January 15, 1912. It detailed a secret meeting between the heads of the three families, where they agreed to keep a parcel of land untouched. The entry mentioned an artifact buried there—something the families feared could bring ruin if uncovered.

“An artifact?” Daniels asked, his brow furrowing. “What kind of artifact?”

“It doesn’t say,” Annie replied. “But it must have been important enough to make them sign a pact to protect it.”

The next entry was even more troubling. It described how the Lane family was accused of breaking the pact, leading to their financial ruin and exile from Cedar Grove. The Millers and Clarkes, fearing exposure, agreed to keep the reason for the feud hidden from the rest of the town.

“That explains the animosity,” Ethan said. “But why would someone want to stop the resort now?”

Daniels leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. “If this artifact is real, and it’s tied to that land, the resort could unearth it. Whoever’s behind the threats might be trying to prevent that at any cost.”

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A New Plan

As the clock ticked past midnight, Ethan and Annie left the sheriff’s office with a mix of exhaustion and determination. The journal had provided some answers, but it had also raised more questions.

“We need to find out what this artifact is,” Ethan said as they walked back to the bakery.

“And why it’s so dangerous,” Annie added. “If we can prove it’s connected to the threats, we’ll have a stronger case to take to the mayor and the townspeople.”

Ethan nodded. “But we can’t do it alone. We’ll need allies—people who care about the future of Cedar Grove as much as we do.”

Annie smiled faintly, despite the weight of the situation. “You mean like you and me?”

He glanced at her, his expression softening. “Exactly like us.”

The bond between them, forged through shared purpose and danger, felt stronger than ever. Whatever lay ahead, they were ready to face it together.

Ethan pushed open the bakery door, and the familiar scent of freshly baked bread wrapped around them like a warm embrace. For a moment, the comforting normalcy of the space contrasted sharply with the chaos of the day, grounding them.

“We’ll have to be careful about who we trust,” Ethan said, turning to Annie as he locked the door behind them. “The person behind this might not be acting alone.”

Annie nodded, setting the journal on the counter. “We should go through the rest of it tonight. There might be more clues hidden in those pages.”

As she flipped to a random entry, her eyes widened. “Wait—look at this. February 1913. It mentions a stone circle deep in the restricted forest. It says, ‘The artifact must never see the light of day again. If it does, the town’s foundations will crumble.’”

Ethan frowned. “A stone circle? That could be the location of the artifact.”

“But why would they believe it could destroy the town?” Annie asked, her voice hushed with unease.

“Maybe it’s just superstition,” Ethan suggested, though he didn’t sound convinced.

Annie met his gaze, her determination hardening. “Superstition or not, we have to find it before someone else does.”

Ethan nodded, reaching for the journal. “Tomorrow, we head back into the forest—with a plan this time.”

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End of Chapter 8