Whispers of the Turning Seasons (part 19)

Snow swirled around the clearing as Evelyn tried to steady her breathing. Her pulse hammered in her ears, each beat louder than the last. Rowan stood in front of her, tense and unreadable, keeping his aim fixed on the woman.

Yet Evelyn couldn’t look away from the boy.

His eyes—too familiar, too honest—held nothing but longing.

A longing she didn’t understand… and yet somehow felt.

The woman raised her hands slowly, palms open as if calming a frightened animal.

“Evelyn,” she said softly, “you came farther than anyone believed you could. Even after the truth was buried.”

“Enough,” Rowan snapped. His voice cracked with the strain of holding himself together. “You say one more thing to manipulate her, and—”

“I’m not manipulating her,” the woman replied calmly.
“I’m reminding her.”

Evelyn shook her head, forcing herself to speak through the tightening in her throat.

“If… if I was with you… why didn’t you try to find me?”

The woman’s expression tightened, as if the question had struck a still-open wound.

“I did,” she whispered.
“For years. I filed reports. Hired investigators. I searched every corner of this state. But she took you across county lines before the fire was even put out. And by the time I had enough evidence, your mother had… disappeared.”

Evelyn felt a cold weight settle in her chest.

My mother hid me.
My mother lied.
My mother stole me.

Rowan reached for Evelyn’s hand, grounding her.

“You don’t have to take her word as truth,” he whispered.
“We’ll verify everything. You’re safe.”

The woman tilted her head, eyes flicking to Rowan.

“You think you can protect her from her own past?” she asked.
“You don’t even understand what you’re dealing with.”

He exhaled sharply. “Try me.”


---

The Hidden File

The woman reached slowly into her coat.

Immediately, every deputy in the trees aimed their rifles.

“Easy!” Ellis barked.

The woman stopped moving, looking irritated rather than afraid.

“I’m taking out a folder,” she said.
“You can shoot me, but then you’ll never see what her mother hid.”

Rowan hesitated.

Ellis nodded tightly. “Take it out. Slowly.”

The woman pulled out a weather-worn envelope. She tossed it onto the snow between them.

“Open it,” she said.

Rowan retrieved it, never lowering his gun. He handed it to Evelyn.

Her fingers trembled as she opened it.

Inside were:

A birth certificate.
A legal adoption form.
A photo.

The photo took her breath away.

A little girl—her—standing between the woman and the boy in front of the cabin, snow piled high around them. She was smiling. Laughing. Her arms wrapped around the boy.

Evelyn’s vision blurred.

“I…”
Her voice cracked.
“I remember that hat.”

She touched the edge of the picture with trembling fingers.

Rowan stood frozen, shock cutting through his usual composure.

“Evelyn…” he murmured, “this looks real.”

The woman met his eyes sharply.

“It is real. Everything she thought she knew was built on lies.”


---

The Boy Speaks

The boy stepped forward, small boots crunching in the snow.

“When Mom took you,” he whispered, “you kept asking for me. Every night. You cried when you didn’t see the cabin lights.”

Evelyn’s breath hitched.

He swallowed.

“You asked if I’d find you. You told me not to forget you.”

Tears streamed down his cheeks.

“I didn’t.”

Evelyn covered her mouth.

Her chest twisted painfully.

A feeling she didn’t have a name for swelled inside her—grief for a life she didn’t remember, and guilt for a promise she didn’t know she’d broken.


---

Rowan Draws the Line

Rowan stepped fully between Evelyn and the woman.

“That’s enough,” he said firmly.
“Evelyn is not going anywhere with you.”

The woman’s face shifted—
not to anger, but something sharper.
Something colder.

“You think this is about force?” she asked quietly.
“You think I would drag her into the woods like a criminal?”

Rowan didn’t respond.

The woman slowly pointed to Evelyn’s boots.

“She walked here on her own,” she whispered.
“Her feet led her home.”

Evelyn shuddered.

“Stop saying that,” she whispered.

The woman’s eyes softened.

“Then listen. Listen to what your heart is telling you.”

Rowan’s jaw clenched.

“She’s listening to me,” he said sharply. “And I’m telling her she’s safe.”

The woman looked at him with pity.

“Oh, Rowan,” she murmured,
“You think she came here for safety?”

The wind stilled.
Even the trees seemed to stop shifting.

“She came here for answers.”


---

The Breaking Point

Evelyn finally forced herself to stand. Her legs shook, but she stayed upright.

“Tell me everything,” she said.

Rowan turned, horrified.

“Evelyn—”

“Rowan,” she said firmly, voice cracking, “I need to hear it. I need to know what really happened.”

The woman exhaled, relief flickering across her face.

“It began on the night of the fire,” she said.
“When your mother—your birth mother—came here.”

Evelyn felt her lungs tighten.

“She wasn’t alone,” the woman continued.
“She had two men with her.”

Evelyn swallowed hard.
Rowan’s brow furrowed.

“She broke down the back door,” the woman said, “started shouting that I had stolen you. That I’d brainwashed you. That you belonged to her.”

The boy’s lip trembled.

“She was angry,” he whispered.
“She pushed me.”

Evelyn felt sick.

The woman’s voice grew tight.

“She set the kitchen curtains on fire. I grabbed both of you and tried to escape through the woods. But the smoke… you were coughing… I lost my grip. And she grabbed you.”

Evelyn’s vision blurred again.

The boy wiped his eyes.
“I screamed your name. You looked back. You reached for me.”

Evelyn’s knees buckled, but she didn’t fall.

“I don’t remember that,” she whispered.

The woman nodded gently.

“You were made to forget.”

Rowan spoke through clenched teeth:

“We will investigate every claim.”

“You don’t have to,” the woman said quietly.
“Because tonight—”

She looked at Evelyn.

“—she remembers.”

And Evelyn realized something terrifying:

She did.

Not everything.
Not clearly.
But enough.

The fire.
The screaming.
Her own tiny voice calling out a name she had forgotten.

A name she now heard in the wind.


---

What No One Saw Coming

Suddenly, Ellis’s radio crackled.

“M–ma’am,” a deputy stammered through static, “you need to see this. Somebody’s… somebody’s approaching from the south trail.”

Ellis stiffened.
“Who?”

The deputy’s voice shook.

“A woman. Late forties. Brown coat. Looks distressed. Says she’s—”

The radio cut out.

Evelyn felt her heart turn to ice.

Rowan’s eyes widened.

Ellis whispered:

“Evelyn… she says she’s your mother.”

The clearing erupted into chaos.

But Evelyn heard nothing.

Only one thought roared in her mind:

Both women are here.
Both claiming to be her mother.
And only one of them is telling the truth.