“Mr. Gable,” she says warmly, stepping forward to greet us. “Welcome back, sir. It’s a pleasure to have you staying with us again.”

Immediately I feel my stomach clench. He’s been here before? Who with? But it’s not my place to be jealous, so I force a smile.

“Thank you, Mary,” he says, then he looks down at me to explain. “I shot photos here for an article about the most exclusive accommodations in the country.”

My smile relaxes. He was here for work. I look around while he and Mary talk. We are under a canopy of trees, tall ones, that stretch high into the sky, filtering the sunlight. There are wooden steps leading up to what I can only describe as tree houses, built on platforms around the larger trees. There are four smaller ones and two large ones, and the small ones are connected to the larger ones by wooden platforms and bridges.

“It was a wonderful article,” Mary agrees. “You did the place justice, for which we’re grateful. Anything you need while you’re here, please let us know.” She gestures to a man nearby, who nods and collects our bags off Toby.

“Thank you,” James says. “Right now, I think we could just do with a rest.”

I know he means me, that I need a rest, but he is being polite by including himself in the statement and I don’t care because I’m grateful. I am tired. I was so nervous last night I barely slept, and it’s catching up with me. Also, my body hasn’t taken kindly to the vibrations of the helicopter and I’m feeling a little nauseous. Even though this place is begging to be explored, I want nothing more than to curl up on a bed and close my eyes for a while. I need to get some strength back.

“Of course.” She smiles. “Follow me.”

She leads us to the only building on the ground, a wooden lodge. Inside, there is a reception area and some rooms behind doors that I assume are offices, and a door that says STAFF ONLY. Mary leads us toward a set of metallic elevator doors.

“You have an elevator?” I ask. “In the forest?”

She nods. “Two, actually. We are an exclusive, hidden resort, and although we cater mostly to the famous and wealthy, some of them are of course elderly or have mobility issues. We make it comfortable and accessible for them all.”

“This place is insane,” I hiss quietly to James as we wait for the doors to open.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“What do you think?”

“Wait until you see what’s at the top.”

The elevator makes a ding noise, and the doors open. Mary steps to the side and gestures for us to go in first. I am about to step forward when her words connect with my brain.

“Stop,” I say, sharper than intended. Both James and Mary look at me quizzically. “You said the elevators are for the elderly and the infirm.”