Chapter 2

The letter arrived on a Tuesday. Not in Ethan' s familiar handwriting, but typed, formal.

It announced his engagement. To a Miss Seraphina Thorne.

Daughter of Colonel Augustus Thorne, a name that echoed with military power and, for some, with conquest.

The words were cold, precise. He could no longer marry a simple frontier girl. His new life demanded someone of station. Someone like Seraphina.

Anya read it, standing by the window, the paper trembling in her hand. The world outside seemed to dim.

That evening, the smokehouse behind their cabin was silent. Too silent.

Anya went to check. Jed usually tended the fire for smoking meat.

The door creaked open.

Darkness. A smell.

Blood.

She found them. Jed. Elara.

Not whole.

Brutally, horribly changed. Hidden amongst the hanging meats.

A skinning knife, one of Jed' s, lay near her hand. She didn' t remember picking it up.

Her dress was wet, dark. Blood.

She was still there, in a daze, when the first neighbor arrived, drawn by the lack of smoke, the unnatural quiet.

He screamed.

Soon, others came.

Sheriff Brody pushed through the crowd.

He saw Anya, the knife, the blood.

He saw the horror in the smokehouse.

"Anya Brightwater," he said, his voice heavy. "I'm arresting you for the murder of Jedediah Stone and Elara Moon."

She didn't speak. No confession. No denial.

Her mind was a blank, frozen space.

The town, horrified, demanded justice. Sheriff Brody, under pressure, locked her in the small town jail.

The cell was cold. She sat on the cot, the blood on her dress stiffening.