Never Let You Go

Marcus turns and checks the stack. “We should probably load up before the night.”


I hold my breath, my hands clenched so tight my nails dig into my palm. The woodpile is around the back of the house. If Marcus goes alone, I’ll have time to talk to the kids.

“I can do it.” Jared’s face is hopeful, eager. He wants to impress us. Sophie is gazing up at him proudly. I want to shout at him to sit down.

Marcus rises to his feet. “You can help cut some kindling.”

“Bring lots. It’s going to be cold tonight,” I say. Marcus gives me a wink and I know what he’s thinking. I’ll keep you warm. I dig my fingernails harder into my palm.

While they get their coats and boots on, I flip through the movies as if I’m picking one for us to watch tonight. The titles blur. Sophie sits nearby reading a magazine. Finally I hear the door close. I wait a few beats for them to get around the side of the house, then quickly move closer to Sophie and grip her arms. She’s startled, almost jerks back, but I hold her in place.

“Honey, listen to me. Marcus isn’t who he says he is. He was Elizabeth Sanders’s husband. I went into that room upstairs and her things are still there. Books, clothes, and—”

“Mom, that’s nuts!” She tries to tug free, looking at me like I’m drunk or insane.

“It’s the truth.” I raise my voice to a firm whisper. “I saw her name in the books and I found pills—the same kind that almost killed Angus. I think he wants to hurts us. You and Jared have to sneak out tonight and get help.”

Her face is stunned, her green eyes staring into mine. Her expression changes from surprise to horror. “He heard me on the stairs last night. He’ll catch me.”

“I have a plan. We can do this, just listen. After the movie, say you’re tired and want to go to bed. Tie sheets together, climb out the window. Then you have to get Jared out his window downstairs.” I pause, glance at the door. “Once you have cell service, call the police.”

Even as I’m talking, she’s already shaking her head. “I don’t want to leave you behind.”

“You have to. I need to keep him distracted.” I glance at the door again. I can hear chopping sounds outside, but that could be Jared. I decide not to tell her that I think Marcus killed Andrew. If she’s too upset, she won’t be able to think straight. She’s already in shock. Her skin is pale, her nostrils flaring. Her hands balled into fists.

“You have to try to act normal, okay?” I say. “He can’t suspect anything.”

She nods, but she still looks petrified. “What if he figures it out?”

Before I can answer, the door swings open with a bang and my heart jolts in my chest. I sit back on my heels. Marcus and Jared come in carrying armloads of wood. Sophie hurriedly picks up her magazine. I try to give her a comforting smile, but she’s not looking at me. I can feel her frantic thoughts, see her eyelids blinking rapidly.

I get to my feet and sit beside her, slide my hand into hers, and give it squeeze. It’s going to be okay. We can do this. She squeezes my hand back. Marcus and Jared stack the wood beside the fire, complaining about the wind and the rain and joking about how we’re lucky to be inside beside the warm fire. I laugh and tell them to hurry up. Sophie is smiling too, but I know she’s working hard at it. Her body feels stiff. I have to get her to calm down before Jared or Marcus senses something has changed. When they go outside for another load, Sophie and I talk more and work through the plan until her voice sounds stronger, more confident.

The guys come in with their final loads and stack them beside the fire, then take off their coats and boots. Marcus goes into the bathroom and comes out with a couple of towels for him and Jared. They ruffle their hair and dry their faces, then hang the towels by the fire.

“We’ll be lucky if we have power for much longer,” Marcus says.

Sophie flicks a sideways glance at me. I know she’s thinking about our plan.

Marcus collapses down into the armchair and Jared perches on the hearth. Jared’s fiddling with the metal screen, trying to close it across the fire. Marcus glances at him. “It’s broken.” He looks back at me. “Did you pick out a movie? Something with lots of action, I hope.”

“Of course.” I point to the one I’d set aside on the floor. “Point Break.”

“Great choice.” As he slides the movie in, I stare at the back of his head and keep my daughter’s hand tight in mine.





CHAPTER FORTY-ONE


SOPHIE

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