Rays of sunlight streamed through the tangled branches of a redwood forest. A girl of eight spun around the trees, her eyes shut, hands groping wildly. Giggles ran from her mouth in a tinkling laugh.

“Ready, or not, here I come!” Marabelle’s eyes flew open. She found her brother at once, huddled in the tree above her. He grinned and leapt from the tree. The girl raced through the forest, sharp eyes catching the slightest movements. It wasn’t a quarter hour later that she stood, surrounded by her friends from school. All, except one.

“Sirena! You win!” Silence. Not a single bird chirped. Then she noticed the tendrils of smoke rising over the treetops. “Stay here,” she said, and was off. It led her to a small cabin. A cobbled path ran through the lush garden blooming before the house. Footprints trailed through the dirt, leading into the cabin.

Silently, she picked her way to the door and knocked. When there was no answer, she pushed open the door. But as she passed through the threshold, the door slammed shut behind her.

She was in a living room, the pillows artfully arranged, not a speck of dust to be seen. Bouquets of flowers decorated the shelves, and a warm fire blazed in the fireplace across the room. There was another door, painted in the colors of the sunset. Sirena’s laughter floated from the door.

“Welcome to my home. Make yourself comfortable.” There was a flash of white, and Marabelle knew only darkness.

Her daughter had been gone for a month. The mother worried, hounding the police for hints of Marabelle’s whereabouts. Nothing. She was proclaimed dead, and a funeral hosted in the church. The girl’s mother didn’t hear any of the words. A favorite teddy bear of the girl’s was buried, wrapped in an oilskin cloth. The case was closed, and life normal.

On a frigid December morning, the mother returned to the cemetery, weeping at the girl’s tombstone. Oh, she had died too young- she hadn’t lived a full life. Then a voice drifted from the dead tree in a corner.

“Mom? Don’t cry.” Silence. She lifted her head.

Hanging by the neck on the withered tree was a tiny girl, pale blue eyes fixed on the mother. Blood pooled at her feet, and carved on a slender arm were the words: I found you!

Sweet laughter, and the mother fell to her knees.