Dinner at Maple Meadows

As the vehicle turned down a long drive, I stared out the window trying to process what I had seen in Misty’s mind. She looked to be in her late twenties now, to those memories must have been about eight to ten years ago. What atrocities had she suffered in the time since?

The drive cut through a section of tall red cedar trees, Douglas fir, and towering maple trees, now barren. The road then turned up a small hill to the main house. Overlooking a lake with a creek feeding it and overflowing the far back,  a huge manor came into view. It looked like a three-story log cabin but was MASSIVE. As the drive circled around the front, I couldn’t even begin to guess how many rooms this house had. The main level was wrapped in a wide porch with huge polished tree trunks as pillars every few feet.

Several large men patrolled the grounds with rifles in hand. I wondered what they were so worried about to have that much security.

“Welcome to Maple Meadows. Clearwater