Wet snow fell in large flakes, melting on her eyelashes. The silence of the Appalachian forest was deceptive, full of sounds for those who knew how to listen. Emily froze, staring at the silhouette among the trees.

A man was tied to a century-old pine with strong ropes, his head hanging limply on his chest. Her first thought was to retreat, hide in the thicket where they couldn’t find her. Grandpa taught her that strangers bring trouble.

But Grandpa wouldn’t say anything more; he hadn’t woken up three days ago when the morning painted their cabin with pink light. Emily took a cautious step forward. Then another.

The man wore expensive but torn clothes. His face was covered with stubble, dried blood crusted on his temple. Hearing the crunch of twigs, he lifted his head.

His eyes, filled with exhaustion and pain, widened. “Girl?” he rasped. “Where did you come from?” Emily didn’t answer.

Nine years living with Grandpa in the forest had taught her caution. She remembered his words. A word is silver, silence is gold.

And an extra word in the forest could be the last. “Please.” The man’s voice trembled.

“Water. Do you have water?” She watched him, unmoving. The man was big, but now helpless.

Like a bear in a trap. She had water, in an old canteen Grandpa always carried on hunts. Now it belonged to her, along with the knife hidden in her pant pocket.

“Who tied you up?” she asked quietly, trying to keep her voice steady. “People.” He coughed. “Who want my place.

My property. A place in the forest?” The man gave a weak smile. “No.

A place in the big world. My name’s James Carter.

And you?” “Emily,” she replied, hesitating. The name felt strange spoken aloud. For the last three years, only Grandpa called her by name, and even then rarely.

Mostly just “kid” or “granddaughter.” She took another step forward, but not close enough for him to reach. She opened the canteen and extended it, arm stretched to its full length.

James eagerly pressed his lips to the rim, water dripping down his chin, soaking into his shirt collar. “Thank you,” he breathed. “I thought I’d die here.”

Emily took the canteen back. The sun was already sinking toward the horizon; soon the forest would fall into darkness. Not the best time for a lone girl.

“I’m going,” she said, stepping back. “Wait.” His voice held fear.

“You can’t just leave. Untie me, please. They won’t come back for me.

They left me to die. Why should I trust you?” James lowered his head. “You shouldn’t.

But I’m begging you. I’ll repay you when I get out. I have…

money.” “I don’t need your money,” Emily cut in, and something in her voice made the man look at her more closely. Not like a child.

Like an equal. “Then what do you want?” Emily stayed silent. She didn’t know the answer.

Three days ago, she had a home and Grandpa. Now only a satchel with belongings, a knife, and an uncertain future. She’d left the cabin when she realized Grandpa wouldn’t wake.

She needed to find people, report it. But the forest closed in, trails twisted, and now this strange man from another world. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally.

“For now, I need to find shelter for the night. Will you come back?” His voice held hope. Emily didn’t answer.

Turning, she vanished among the trees, blending into the dusk. James was left alone, listening to the fading crunch of twigs under her feet.

The morning was cold. Emily spent the night in the hollow of an old beech, curled up, clutching Grandpa’s box to her chest. Inside was the only photo of her mom, whom she’d never met, a dried flower from the forest ranger’s daughter—her only friend, who visited summers—and a cracked but working compass.

Sunlight pierced through dense branches. Emily crawled out of her shelter, rubbing her stiff hands. Her first thought was the man tied to the tree.

Was he alive? Had those who left him returned? She gathered her things and headed back, stepping quietly. Grandpa taught her to move through the forest silently, to blend in, become part of it. James was there, head slumped, eyes closed.

Emily thought for a moment she was too late, but then his chest rose with a heavy breath. “You came,” he whispered, eyes still shut, as if sensing her presence. “I came,” she replied, pulling out the canteen.

“Here, drink.” This time, she stepped closer, holding the water to his lips herself. “Trust?” “No, just common sense.

If he dies, she’d be alone in the forest with no chance to find help.” “Thank you,” he said after drinking. “I’d given up hope.

Who are you?” Emily asked directly. The real answer. James met her gaze for a long moment, assessing.

“I own a lumber company, Green Timber. Competitors kidnapped me. Wanted to take the business…