Cherry watched the men sleeping around the giant fireplace in sleeping bags. In the darkness of the empty cabin, she smiled. It reminded her of an old western movie where the cowboys slept out on the range. Instead of having a blanket of stars above them, there was a wooden ceiling. Keeping the cold out and the warmth in. The Summer night had turned chilly, and Cherry was grateful for the roaring fire. Much progress had already happened. The wall had been mended. The men had put in the beams defining the roof and were set to complete it the following day. After that, Cherry could start making furniture. She always enjoyed the woodwork but wasn't looking forward to it this time. The feeling that she was running out of time nagged at her. Depriving her of peace of mind and sleep.

What was this time-sensitive that she needed to get done?

Wracking her brain, Cherry couldn't think of anything. Unless...her gaze lifted to her father's journals dimly outlined against the firelight. It could be in there. Glancing at the men, she stood, moving to her father's journals. Opening one, she tried to read, but the light didn't reach where the pile of books sat. Picking them up, she moved back to the fire and her sleeping bag and began skimming through his writings. Some of them were from years ago, and others were sooner. Frowning, Cherry looked at the dates on the journal's spines. The last one was from two years ago ... when he was supposed to be dead. Opening the book, she paged through, looking for anything that could lead her to the mystery that was quickly becoming her life. There were so many questions needing answers she didn't know where to start.

Why had this happened to her family?

What did it have to do with her mother's land and cabin?

Why did her name spell out cannon?

What coming-of-age ritual did she have to do on her birthday?

The question made Cherry still ... her birthday ... what was the date? Frustration lashed through her; they had diligently burned everything, even the calendar. Looking around, Cherry saw Steve's jacket lying beside where he slept. A piece of paper protruded from the pocket. Careful not to wake him, she reached over, pulling it out.

"Huh," she whispered, "they bought those supplies yesterday."

The receipt showed the date to be four days from her birth date.

Could they be right?

Had something deep inside brought her here to save her mother's legacy?

Cherry sighed, rubbing her hand over her eyes. Life was a little complicated at the moment. One thing she was sure of since being at the cabin, she hadn't required her medication at all. The last time she was in town, she mentioned the names to the pharmacist, who advised he had never heard of them.

Was the medication specifically designed to keep her from remembering?

If that were so, what was she supposed to forget and why?

Who didn't want her to remember?

Why didn't they want her to remember?

Who could do something like that?

Rubbing her hands over her face as frustration bubbled to the fore of her fraught emotions, she groaned. Every moment there were more questions and no answers. Looking at the open diary, Cherry wondered if her questions could be answered by her father. Cherry frowned, lifting a page to better view the odd binding. She found a corner of paper sticking out of the hand-crafted leather cover.

"What are you?" she whispered.

Pulling the folded square of paper from its hiding place, she unfolded it finding a letter from both her parents and a hand-drawn map. Looking between the two, Cherry pushed the map to the back and began to read the letter. In part, it was an astonishing explanation followed by instruction; her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes followed the words down the page. Tears filled her eyes and slowly ran unchecked down her cheeks. The concern, worry, pain and hope emerging from the page told Cherry her parents worried about her. They did not believe the rumours and stories they had heard over the years about her being part of a spy ring or a human guinea pig, but Cherry wondered if there wasn't some truth in that. Not the spy ring but the human guinea pig ... she had sometimes felt like it.

Thinking back, she could mark the start of that feeling. It began with her time in the special ICU ward spanning years until a few days ago.

Could the sudden need to find peace and her approaching birthday have anything to do with why she left everything, bringing her to her family's sanctuary?

Her life had been run for her. Everything she needed literally at the clap of a hand or flick of a finger. Someone would be on hand to fill her every requirement, even new clothes. That part she hated, not buying her own clothes. Frowning, Cherry wondered if her automated apartment was like a laboratory for a rat. Thinking of how she had lived the past few years, Cherry shuddered. None of it was her. She had known it and felt it. Thinking about it, she had to admit it was probably why she had enjoyed her long lunches with Sam, walking on the beach barefoot afterwards. A time when she could be herself. No expectations. No measuring of her actions, words or expressions. Nothing that would grade her for activities the next day. Nothing she had to meet to be able to have time without her security detail.

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"Were they a security detail for my protection or to monitor and report everything I said and did?" she murmured, "who were they reporting to?

Looking at the map, she noted a rectangle with the word "cabin" written on it. If this is where they were now ... trailing her finger, she worked out what her father was trying to tell her.

"It's a map to find them," she whispered, glancing nervously at the men, but they slept undisturbed, "does the journal tell me anything else."

Pulling the book toward her, she flipped to the first page and read. Time passed as Cherry's eyes ran down each page. The fire had died down to a glow as the sun rose and the men stirred in their sleeping bags. Still, Cherry read on, devouring every word, every meaning and information explaining what happened or why something like this was done to her family. The sun continued to rise, the men made another fire, breakfast was served, and Cherry read on as she ate. Finally coming to the end of the last page of the journal, Cherry sighed, rubbing her tired eyes and looked around. Stretching, Cherry groaned at the stiffness of her muscles.

"Oh, dead leg," she hissed as she tried to stand but felt pins and needles run along the outside of her leg. Gaining her feet, she waited for the pain of returning circulation while taking in the world of bright green through the bare window. The sun shone hotly, filling the cabin with light. Taking note of her surroundings, she found the fire had burnt out. The other sleeping bags were rolled up and neatly stacked against the wall near the front door. Cherry chuckled, right next to the boots. Hammering overhead drew her attention. Shaking out her legs, she padded to the doorway; looking out, the men were nowhere to be seen. Tired and hungry, Cherry knew she should be feeling miserable; instead, she felt hopeful, excited and energised. What could possibly have changed? Glancing at the journals with the letter and map open beside them, Cherry smiled. Knowledge had made the difference. It brought hope and clarity.

Returning to the fireplace, Cherry folded the map and letter, pushing them into their hiding place, and stacking the journals at the door. Shoving her feet into her boots before leaving the cabin, Cherry felt the breeze flutter through her hair. Inhaling the fresh scent of the forest, she knew this place was the sanctuary of her youth.

Following the sounds of hard labour, she found the men busy around the corner. Steve was on the roof taking a wooden plank from Tyron, who handed him planks to nail in place while Silas sat on a long log sipping at a beer.

"You finished reading," he said, "it must have been a good read. Don't think you heard anything we said to you."

Cherry grimaced, "Sorry, I didn't. The read was ... enlightening."

Smiling, Tyron nodded, "Give you any direction?"

"Some," Cherry said, "I have an idea of which direction I need to hike to find the pass. Before you say it's too dangerous, my father tells me it's necessary."

"Your father?" Steve asked, "did he visit during the night?"

Cherry chuckled, "Not exactly," she sighed, sitting on the log with Silas, "I ... found a letter from ... two years ago."

She looked between the men seeing their glances at each other, "You knew he was alive ... didn't you?"

"By accident," Tyron said, "Dad saw him at the storage unit two years ago but couldn't figure out why he was there or if he had returned to the cabin or the neighbourhood."

"Was he alone?" Cherry asked.

"Don't know," Silas shrugged, "saw him from a distance; he could have had someone with him, but I'm not sure."

Nodding, Cherry stood, "I'm hungry, have any of you had lunch."

"An hour ago," Tyron smiled, "we have a long roll with fillings. There is one for you in the bag over there."

Cherry followed his gaze spotting a wicker picnic basket. Opening it, she grinned. She would have called it a footlong if she were in the city. Cans of soda and fruit juice were also packed inside. Selecting a drink, she returned to the log with her food and began to eat while the men continued to work. Silas sat silently while Cherry ate, glancing at her occasionally. Nodding approval as she crushed the paper encasing the roll.

"You're going to take that hike, aren't you?" Silas asked.

Cherry glanced at him while opening her can of fruit juice, "I'm running out of time. I have to."

"How long do you have?" Silas asked.

"My birthday is in ..." Cherry paused, thinking, "three days. Where I have to go will take some time. I was thinking of leaving this afternoon."

"You need someone with you," Silas said, "Steve will accompany you."

"I can't ask Steve to give up his time to hike out with me," Cherry said, shaking her head, "he has his own life."

"Do you see him doing anything other than nailing the wood onto that roof?" Silas asked, indicating Steve working.

"Not for the past two days, but he has his job in town ... perhaps a girlfriend who is probably wanting to know why he is hanging out with me," Cherry said, "I'm sure he wants to get back to all of that."

"Actually, we're working and getting on with our lives right now," Tyron said as he picked up another wood plank.

"How?" Cherry asked, "all you've done is repair the cabin and burn all my things."

"Yep, work can be fun," Tyron said, grinning, "besides, my wife's family is visiting, and we're thrilled to be away."

"What time are you going to be leaving?" Silas asked.

"I'm not certain, but if you're sure Steve won't mind coming with ..." Cherry glanced at the roof, "there is not much left to work on. We can leave as soon as he is finished."

"Then you'd better make sure you have all the items you will need," Silas said, noticing her confused expression, "go and pack."