Chloe’s pov
The rhythmic, powerful crack of Ted's axe had stopped ten minutes ago, replaced by the steady roar of the freezing wind whipping through the pine trees outside.
Inside the small border cottage, the dry pine logs burned bright in the stone hearth, throwing warm, golden orange light across the rustic floorboards. The damp chill in the air had melted away, replaced by the scent of fresh woodsmoke and pine pitch.
Over on the narrow cot in the corner, Lisa was sound asleep. Her face looked less gray under the firelight, her chest rising and falling in shallow, even breaths as the heavy wool blanket kept her warm.
I sat on the low wooden bench, my dark cloak pulled tight around my shoulders. My palm rested flat against my lower stomach beneath the fabric, holding my baby safe in
