It was a Tuesday when she disappeared.

She was out of milk for a casserole she was making for dinner. Helen grabbed her keys, threw a goodbye over her shoulder, and left.

And never came home.

Five years have passed since his wife’s disappearance, but John never gave up hope. The search for Helen left him destitute, despondent and obsessed. Whispers were abound in the small town of Rogue River that Helen ran off with another man, or just picked up stakes and moved to another town, changing her name to start a new life.

But the truth was out there, John knew, in those dense, impenetrable trees that comprised Rogue River. There was a small, concentrated thatch of woods that seemed to swallow people whole for centuries... the same cluster of forest that even deer and other creatures avoided... a piece of earth that the Native Americans had called “forbidden.”

John knew the answer to his wife’s disappearance lied within those two miles...

And that the answer would most certainly cost him his life.