Chapter 6 - The Pines of Morrow Creek
They landed in Portland past midnight, rented an all-wheel-drive crossover, and drove south into the dense evergreen valleys flanking the Cascade foothills. The mist hung low, clinging to the towering Douglas firs like shredded cotton.
By mid-morning, the navigation system led them down an unpaved gravel road bordered by weathered wooden fencing. At the end of the road stood a sprawling, two-story cedar lodge surrounded by smaller cabins, a working greenhouse, and a gravel playground. A hand-carved wooden sign near the entrance read: Morrow Creek House: Sanctuary & New Beginnings.
As Julian killed the engine, the silence of the woods enveloped them. It was a rustic, impeccably kept place, despite visible signs of frugal maintenance—patched roofing shingles, freshly stained porch railings, and carefully tended vegetable beds.
A woman in her mid-forties with cropped silver-streaked hair, wearing a wool cardigan and denim, stepped out onto the wide front porch. Clara Vance wiped her hands on a garden towel and watched them approach.
"Julian?" she asked, her voice calm and measured.
"Clara," Julian said stiffly. "This is my wife, Adrianne."
Clara looked at Adrianne, extending a warm, calloused hand. "I recognize your voice from the phone messages. Thank you for making this trip. Most people in your position would have just let the sheriff deliver the eviction notice."
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"We wanted to see what David left behind," Adrianne said evenly.
"Then come inside," Clara replied, holding the screen door open. "You should meet the people who knew the man you remember only as a boy."
