Dawn came cold to Millford.

  Mara woke with her hand clenched tight. She opened it slowly and looked at her palm. Nothing was in there. But there was a warmth to it. Like she'd been holding something hot.

  The stone was gone.

  She sat up in bed and looked around the small room. The stone had been on the table beside her bed when she'd gone to sleep. She remembered putting it there. Remembered staring at it for a long time before finally closing her eyes.

  Now the table was empty.

  She stood and checked the floor. Under the bed. Behind the table. Still nothing.

  The stone was gone.

  Her palm still felt warm.

  Mara walked to the window and looked outside. The street was empty. Gray light spread across the dirt road. No one else was awake yet.

  She rubbed her palm against her nightshirt. The warmth didn't fade.

  Then she heard it or maybe Felt it.

  A pull. Like someone had tied a string to her chest and was tugging gently. The pull was Insistent.

  It came from the east.

  Mara tried to ignore it. She walked to the kitchen and poured herself water from the clay pitcher. She drank it. The pull still didn't stop.

  She sat down at the table. Pressed her hands flat against the wood. The pull grew stronger.

  Deeper.

  The word wasn't spoken nor heard. It was just there. In her head. Clear as if someone had whispered directly into her ear.

  Deeper.

  Mara stood. She walked to the door and opened it.

  The street outside was still empty. The sky was getting lighter but the sun hadn't risen yet.

  She should go back inside. Close the door. Forget about the stone.

  But her feet moved forward.

  She walked down the three steps from her doorway to the street. The dirt was cold under her bare feet. She was still wearing her nightshirt. She was barefoot.

  She should go back but for some reason She kept walking.

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  The pull guided her. East. Through the empty street. Past houses with shuttered windows. Past the well in the town square.

  Someone's dog barked from inside a yard. She didn't stop.

  The edge of town came quickly. The last house. Then the last fence. Then just open ground leading to the treeline.

  She arrived at Blackwood.

  The forest stood dark against the gray sky. The trees were tall and packed close together. Their branches twisted overhead like gnarled fingers.

  No one went into Blackwood. Not anymore. Not since the vanishings started.

  Mara stopped at the treeline. Her toes touched the edge where grass met dead leaves.

  The pull intensified.

  Deeper.

  She stepped forward.

  The forest swallowed her immediately. The gray morning light disappeared. Under the canopy everything was darker and Colder.

  Her feet crunched on dead leaves and broken twigs. She walked slowly. One hand held out in front of her to push branches aside.

  The pull guided her deeper.

  She didn't know how long she walked. Time felt strange under the trees. Like it moved differently here.

  Then the trees opened up.

  A clearing. Small. Maybe twenty feet across.

  Mara stopped at the edge and stared.

  The grass in the clearing was pressed flat. Completely flat. Like something massive had been laid on top of it.

  But it wasn't random. The flattened grass formed a perfect circle.

  Mara stepped into the clearing. Her bare feet touched the pressed grass. It was damp and Cold. Ice cold.

  The pull in her chest had stopped.

  She stood in the center of the circle and turned slowly. Looking at the treeline. Looking for any sign of what had made this.

  Nothing.

  Just trees and darkness beyond them.

  Then she saw it.

  A small shape near the edge of the circle. Half-hidden in the pressed grass.

  She walked over and knelt down.

  A sock.

  It was Small, Child-sized. Gray wool with a blue stripe around the top.

  She picked it up. It was damp. Heavy with dew.

  Her hands started shaking.

  She knew this sock.

  It was her son's.

  Mara pressed the sock against her chest and looked around the clearing again. Her breathing was getting faster. She could hear her own heart beating against her chest.

  "Leo?" Her voice cracked. "Leo!"

  No one replied. Just the sound of wind moving through the trees.

  She stood and turned in a full circle. Looking for any other sign or trace.

  The grass was pressed flat in a perfect circle. Nothing else disturbed or left behind.

  Just the sock.

  She looked down at it again. At the blue stripe. At the way the wool was still slightly wet.

  This sock had been here recently. Very recently.

  Leo had vanished three weeks ago.

  But this sock was fresh.

  Mara's chest tightened. Her breathing came in short gasps.

  She looked at the circle again. At how perfect it was.

  This wasn't an animal. Animals didn't make perfect circles. Didn't leave single items behind like markers.

  This was something else.

  Something that took children. Took them and brought them here. Laid them down in this clearing and then took them somewhere else. Or

  Collected them.

  The word came to her unbidden.

  Collected.

  Her son had been here. In this circle. Recently.

  Which meant he might still be alive.

  Mara clutched the sock tighter and looked toward the eastern edge of the clearing. The trees there were darker. Thicker.

  The pull was gone from her chest. But she felt something else now. Somekind certainty.

  Whatever had taken Leo had gone deeper into Blackwood.

  And it had left this sock for her to find. Whatever it was it wanted her to know to find her son.

  Mara stood at the edge of the circle and stared into the dark trees.

  She should go back. Tell someone. Get help.

  But who would believe her? Who would come into Blackwood to search for something they couldn't name?

  She looked down at the sock one more time.

  Then she stepped forward. Into the trees. Into the darkness.

  Going deeper. Unaware of the shadows watching her silently.