Chapter 2

Eleanor, my mother, was the previous Keeper of Whisperwind Hollow.

She understood the land, its moods, its dangers.

The "thin places" she' d told me about, spots in the caverns and deep woods where the world wasn' t quite solid, where your own mind could turn on you.

Her duty, our family' s duty, was to guide people, to keep them safe from themselves as much as from the Hollow.

I' d always thought of it as folklore, a charming local legend. I was just a caretaker of the trees and streams.

Now, watching Izzy fuss over Julian' s arrival, her concern for him so palpable while our shared loss was already fading from her focus, I felt a chill.

Julian Croft arrived like a conquering hero, pale and leaning on a cane, but with an undeniable smirk playing on his lips.

He surveyed our home, the Vance estate, his eyes lingering on the old-growth forest surrounding it.

"The energy here," he declared, his voice surprisingly strong for a man supposedly at death' s door, "it' s potent. Perfect."

Izzy beamed, squeezing his arm. "I told you, Julian."

My mother watched them from her chair by the fire, her face grim. Her health had been fragile, and this new stress, this invasion, was a heavy weight.

"This place is not for exploiting, Isabelle," Eleanor said, her voice thin but firm.

Izzy waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, Eleanor, don' t be so dramatic. Julian is going to create something beautiful here, a sanctuary for healing."

A sanctuary built on desecration.

Julian' s plan, as Izzy excitedly explained, was an exclusive wellness retreat.

He talked of clearing trees for "vistas," blasting into the caverns for "meditation chambers."

The very places my ancestors had sworn to protect.

The Hollow wasn' t just land, Eleanor had tried to explain to me after Izzy' s proposal about the baby. It was a responsibility.

A responsibility I had failed.