Chapter 57 Fifty-seven

• The following morning, I wake early and slip out of the cottage before Mason stirs. The woods are different in daylight—less menacing, but no less confusing. I search for hours, retracing my steps from last night, looking for any sign of my phone in the underbrush.
• Nothing.
• By the time I return to the cottage, the sun is setting, and frustration gnaws at my chest. I push open the door to find Mason in the kitchen, dressed in dark clothes and pulling on a jacket.