Husband dumped his disabled wife in the forest unaware a mysterious man watched everything

Leam Morgan hated long drives. Always had. The endless ribbon of highway winding through Colorado’s pine choked wilderness made her stomach churn more than the curves did. Still, she said nothing. She hadn’t said much all morning.

Matthew, her husband of 7 years, drove in focused silence. One hand rested casually on the steering wheel. The other tapped his thigh with quiet tension. The radio played low classical music, a station Leah didn’t recognize, no lyrics, no distractions. They were headed toward a cabin by Still Water Lake, a place they hadn’t visited in years.

The last time they were newly married, tipsy on cheap wine and high on each other’s laughter. Leah remembered swimming in the freezing water just to prove she was tougher than him. He’d pulled her out, shivering, kissed her like she was made of fire. Now the air inside the car felt colder than the lake had ever been. «It’s supposed to snow tonight,» Matthew said, finally breaking the silence.

Leah looked out the window. The clouds hung low, stretched thin like bruises across the sky. «Did you pack the blankets?» she asked. He nodded. «They’re in the back.

Cabin has heat. A pause then almost as an afterthought. This will be good for us. Us. That word used to feel like home.

Now it sounded like a lie told out of habit. Leah shifted slightly in her seat, adjusting her legs, which she couldn’t feel. Not since the accident. A hydraulic lift and the passenger seat’s modifications allowed her to travel. But every bump in the road reminded her that her body moved differently now when it moved at all.

I’m glad you wanted to get away. She said quietly, hoping it didn’t sound like a question. He didn’t answer. Just turned the wheel sharply onto a gravel path marked only by a bent wooden sign. Still water trail, restricted access.

Leah frowned. This isn’t the road to the lake. There’s a back route, Matthew said. Less traffic, more scenic. The tires crackled over gravel and pine needles.

The forest thickened on either side, branches clawing at the car like bony fingers. The GPS on the dashboard went dark. No signal. Leah’s unease grew legs and started pacing inside. Her Matt, she said slowly…