Their home sat in a remote part of rural Oregon, the kind of place most people passed without noticing. Life there was hard but honest. Hannah worked the land, raised a few animals, and took whatever small jobs she could find to keep food on the table.
The children’s father had walked out years earlier, leaving behind nothing but broken promises and silence.
That afternoon, Hannah had gone outside to gather firewood before the storm worsened. That was when she saw the figure lying near the fence.
For a brief, terrifying moment, she thought he was gone.
Her heart pounded as she approached, every instinct warning her to be careful. She knelt beside him, touched his shoulder, and felt the faint rise and fall of his chest.
He was alive.
She didn’t hesitate.
With effort and fear, she dragged him toward the house. Lucas and Emily stood frozen in the doorway, their eyes wide with confusion and alarm.
Hannah didn’t know who this man was. She didn’t know where he came from.
But she knew one thing clearly.
