The forest was alive with shadows, a patchwork of moonlight filtering through the dense canopy above. The air was thick with the earthy scent of moss and pine, every sound amplified in the stillness of the night. A whippoorwill called out in the distance, its mournful song masking the soft rustle of leaves beneath cautious feet.

Harriet crouched low behind a cluster of underbrush, her sharp eyes scanning the terrain ahead. The lantern of a patrolman bobbed faintly through the trees, its flickering light a cruel reminder of the danger she and her charges faced. Her heartbeat was steady, her resolve unshaken, but her mind was sharp with calculation.