Chapter 7: The Shadow Grows
Two years passed. Toby turned eight years old. He was now able to walk short distances using only a wooden cane, a miracle that local townspeople attributed to Clara’s relentless devotion.
However, safety in the modern world is fragile.
One afternoon, a travel blogger passing through Pine Ridge stopped by the local diner where Clara worked. The blogger took several photos of the charming town, including a shot of the diner's cozy porch where Toby was sitting, happily drinking milk and drawing in his sketchbook.
The photo was posted online with the caption: Found the most heartwarming mountain town today.
Within forty-eight hours, an automated facial recognition algorithm flagged the image. The match was instant: Tobias Asheford.
Clara was sweeping the floor of the diner on a quiet Tuesday afternoon when she noticed a slick black SUV with tinted windows slowly rolling down the town's main street. It didn't belong in Pine Ridge. It moved like a predator scouting its prey.
Her heart dropped. She dropped her broom and sprinted straight out the back door toward the cabin.
""Toby! Pack your things!"" Clara gasped as she burst through the cabin door, her face pale.
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Toby looked up from his drawing, confused. ""Clara? What's wrong?""
""We have to go. Right now,"" she said, pulling out their bags. But before she could reach the closet, the heavy sound of car doors slamming echoed from the driveway outside.
