Iris Rose Reed came into the world with a veil over her face and an old woman's hands the only ones steady enough to lift it. Granny Ana called it a caul. She called it a claiming. The hollow had chosen its own before the child ever drew breath.
The church on the ridge was already standing by then. Newly raised when her parents first met, promising salvation to a place that never asked for it. The preacher who leads it wears kindness like a coat. Not everyone in the hollow is fooled. The darkness that has watched this ground since before the first settler's axe fell is not fooled at all.
Some sins wear a collar. This hollow has never needed one to know evil when it moves through the trees.