Mother, Book One. Prologue

The late afternoon sunlight cast itself in thick rays through the trees down to the

forest floor. The golden beams were so dense she could hardly see through them. Evie

stood in a quiet moment, surrounded by the rich forest's hush, listening to the occasional flap of wings or burrowing creatures. The soft floor was covered in a layer of thick pine straw, dotted with ferns and low brush in shades of green more intense and varied than

she had seen in a long time.

Where are we?

She looked at the path ahead, noticeable but completely unmarked. She didn’t

have time to figure out why this place seemed so familiar and completely foreign. They

had to keep moving. Evie forced a mask of calm and looked at her daughters, one on

either side, their sweaty hands tucked tightly into her own.

Lizzie, fourteen and remarkably centered, returned her gaze with eyes full of

encouragement and resolve, then leaned across her mother to address her younger sister.

“Emily,” she whispered fiercely, “run faster this time, okay? You have to.”

Emily was only nine but nearly as tall as Lizzie and faster than all the boys in her

third-grade class. “Okay, I will,” she whispered with a touch of attitude—her signature.

A branch cracked behind them. Evie tightened her grip on the girls’ hands as she

froze, listening. She recognized a distant whirring that sounded almost mechanical, her

brain searching her memory stores for a match. The sound unnerved her.

What is that?

Earlier, she’d instructed the girls to move slowly and make as little noise as

possible; her instincts screamed for her to move. “We have to go. Now.” Her intense whisper set them off at a run along the path

she followed instinctively.

Evie let go of their hands. The girls tore ahead, unhindered, jumping over bushes

and navigating around scattered and overgrown brush like hurdlers, staying as close to

one another as they could. A large pile of downed adolescent pines ahead lay

crisscrossed, blocking the way. She rushed forward to help Emily navigate through the

thicket. Her little girl was nowhere to be seen.

Her heart climbed to her throat as she peered through the thick growth around

them. “Lizzie, where is Em?”

Lizzie was already halfway through the tangle of trunks and branches, but stopped

and whipped around, pine straw in her hair. She looked around, panic in her eyes.

“She was right here, Mom. Two seconds ago, she was right here.”

Evie’s fought to breathe as she scanned the area for a flash of curly, light brown

hair. Lizzie crept back through the trees to her mother. They ran silently and cautiously,

searching behind the trees and bushes, and soon returned to where they had started. Emily

was gone. “Mom.”

Evie held her finger to her lips and looked behind them, listening hard. The

crunching of twigs was too loud, and the unsettling sound of mechanical whirring seemed

to be coming from somewhere above them.

If her love could somehow protect her younger daughter, she would spread it

through this space with a final perusal and unspoken prayer. For a few more moments,

she observed and prayed, then drew Lizzie with her over the forest litter, around stumps

and trees, away from the whirring sound and approaching danger, moving forward,

seeking safety—a mother protecting her child with every ounce of strength.

Fuck being quiet. It was time to run like hell.

She grabbed Lizzie and pulled her forward through the trees and along the path,

eyes stinging with tears, her heart ripping into pieces. No matter how much mother-love

compelled her to leave no stone or leaf unturned, she could not stay and risk Lizzie’s

welfare, too. Not that Lizzie was incapable of protecting herself. Even in this moment of

terror, she exuded strength: her dark, straight hair blown behind her by the force of her

run. Her body, strong and fit, leaped quickly and deftly over obstacles. Her brilliance and

fortitude were visible in eyes that brimmed with intensity and strength—that face, so like

her father’s, whose countenance Evie trusted more than anything.

They ran and ran, Evie unsure if her perception of time was slower or faster than

reality. She pushed herself and Lizzie to move more swiftly than she knew they could.

She barely felt the cuts and scrapes she collected running through the prickly cedar

branches and tall rhododendron bushes. They followed the winding path, Evie’s purely

intuitive connection to this place leading them forward.

A clearing was visible ahead, just beyond the bushes. The sunlight fell on the

area. The brightness of the clearing jarred the senses after so long in the shelter of the

dense forest. She knew the path led directly to the light, and before she weighed the risk

of running through it and being seen, she stopped dead in her tracks.

There she was. Emily. Standing ahead of them, directly in the center of the

clearing, illuminated by the late afternoon sun, the tops of rolling mountains were visible

behind her. She was smiling at them.

Evie felt equal rage and relief as she rushed towards her wayward nine-year-old.

Lizzie followed close on her heels. Emily was beaming at them so steadily as they neared

that Evie nearly stumbled. The girl held an open, effervescent smile that never wavered

or dimmed. She was beautiful and at ease, but rather than calm Evie, it unnerved her.

There was something peculiar, something unreal about the girl, her stance, and her smile.

Emily was like her mother in every way: the not-quite-curly-not-quite-straight

hair, twinkling dark brown eyes, and olive complexion. She also harbored the same

penchant for silliness and wit, a constant source of delight. Unlike her mother, though,

Emily was unable to be inauthentic. She couldn’t pretend a fondness for something or

someone if she disliked them, nor did she act as if she felt anything differently than what

she was feeling.

Evie stared at Emily’s face. The girl seemed to have found a new fullness within

herself. Her eyes were full of stories and wisdom, as though she wasn’t nine years old

anymore, but ancient. Mystical.

“Mother.” Her young voice belied youth. It brimmed with confidence and

tenderness. “Don’t be afraid. This is the step that must be taken.”

Evie woke up.