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Summary
Four years ago he had marched his way through a swamp and directly into hell to find the woman he'd make his wife, Eight months ago she had been stolen from him again, and with her their infant daughter. He had spent every day since searching, even if the pool of blood that had soaked their home's floor stole the hope of every authority long before the search had even begun. Ethan wouldn't believe they were dead. He couldn't.
Not when he had already gone through so much to claw her back once.
The long cold walk didn't get any easier as the sun set. The storm carrying on through into the night, leaving him to walk by the narrow circle of light his lamp could cast.
Then the howling began.