Chapter 5 - The Sanctuary in the Woods
"Leo, listen to me," I said with a deadly, forced calm. "Do you remember the fire drill for the back window?"
"The window that leads to the garden shed?"
"Yes, baby. Climb out right now. Run to Mrs. Gable’s back porch, hide behind the woodpile, and stay completely quiet. Mommy is coming."
I called Mrs. Gable—my retired army nurse neighbor. "Mrs. Gable, men in suits are trying to break into my house. Leo is hiding behind your woodpile. Please grab Leo and meet me at the Shell station on Highway 65!"
"I'm on it," Mrs. Gable said without hesitation. "I've got my late husband's shotgun. If those bastards cross my fence, they're leaving in an ambulance."
Ten minutes later, Mrs. Gable’s red pickup pulled up to the abandoned gas station. Leo scrambled out, sprinting through the pouring rain into my arms.
"MOMMY!" he cried, wrapping his arms around my waist.
Mrs. Gable stepped out, her sharp eyes scanning the highway before looking at the baby in my backseat. "Where are you going, Maya?"
"Duluth," I whispered. "The old house. It's the only place not under my name or Ryan's."
"Go," Mrs. Gable said, shoving a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills into my coat. "Don't use your credit cards or phone. Keep those children safe."
I drove north into the dark, endless expanses of pine forests. By 4:00 a.m., my headlights illuminated the rusted iron gates of the abandoned Duluth estate—the grand three-story Victorian house where our parents had hidden us.
I parked behind the carriage house, carried Hope and led Leo into the cold, dusty kitchen using a hidden key. I got a fire going in our parents' old bedroom, tucked Leo and the baby safely under heavy quilts, and took a flashlight.
It was time to face the third floor. The room with the two deadbolts.
I climbed the narrow stairs, turned the cold brass knob, and swung open the door to the immaculate, tapestried study. Hanging on the wall was a portrait of an eight-year-old girl in a dark blue velvet dress. Her dress slipped off her shoulder blade, revealing the weeping eye mark.
May you like
Below it, sitting on a black oak desk, was my father's journal. I opened it to the first page:
To my twins, Maya and Ryan—if you are reading this, it means I failed to kill the beast before it claimed us.
