Chapter 6
The air left the room.
We were trapped.
Eleanor stood blocking the only exit, the two men flanking her like guard dogs. Behind us, the stairs led back into the dark house. No way out that way either.
"Give me the journal, Claire," Eleanor said. Her voice was calm, but her eyes were wild. "And maybe I'll let you all leave. Unharmed."
I gripped the book tighter. "You'll kill us either way."
"Probably," she admitted with a shrug. "But at least this way it will be quick. If you make me take it from you... I can't promise how long it will take. Or how much it will hurt."
Ethan stepped forward, putting himself between us and them.
"You're not getting anything," he said. "The police are on their way. I texted them before we came in. They know you're here. They know everything."
Eleanor laughed. It was a sharp, ugly sound.
"You think I haven't been watching your phone?" she said. "I cloned it three days ago. I read every text. Every call. There are no police coming, Ethan. You're all alone."
My blood turned to ice. She'd been watching us. All along.
"Take them," Eleanor said to the men. "Get the journal. And make sure they don't talk. Ever."
The men stepped forward.
Ethan raised his fists. "Come on then."
The first man lunged. Ethan ducked, driving his fist into the man's stomach. The man grunted, doubling over. But the second man was already there, hitting Ethan from the side. Ethan went down.
"Ethan!" I screamed.
Mother clutched my arm, terrified.
One of the men turned toward us. I backed away, the journal still in my hand. We retreated into the dining room, the man following slowly, enjoying the chase.
"Give me the book, lady," he said. "This doesn't have to get ugly."
I looked around for a weapon. Anything. My eyes landed on the heavy silver candelabra on the dining table.
As he reached for me, I swung it with all my strength.
It connected with his shoulder. He howled in pain, stumbling back. I hit him again, this time across the face. He went down, blood pouring from his nose.
I didn't stop to look. I grabbed Mother's hand.
"Run!"
We ran through the dining room, into the library, toward the French doors that led to the garden. They were locked. I fumbled with the latch, my hands shaking.
Behind us, I heard Eleanor shouting. "After them! Don't let them escape!"
The lock clicked. I threw the doors open. We ran out into the night, across the wet grass, toward the trees at the edge of the property.
I could hear footsteps behind us. Getting closer.
Mother was slowing down. Her breathing was ragged. She couldn't run much longer.
"Keep going," she gasped. "Take the journal. Go without me."
"I'm not leaving you!"
We reached the trees. I pulled her behind a thick oak, pressing my hand over her mouth to muffle her breathing.
We watched as the men ran past, flashlights sweeping the darkness. Eleanor was with them, her red dress glowing in the beams.
"They can't have gone far!" she shouted. "Find them! Find that journal!"
They moved deeper into the woods.
I waited until their voices faded. Then I helped Mother up.
"This way," I whispered.
We circled back toward the front of the property, staying in the shadows of the trees. Ethan's car was still parked down the street. If we could just reach it...
We were almost at the gate when a figure stepped out from behind the hedge.
I froze.
It was James.
My brother.
He looked at me, at Mother, at the journal in my hand. His face was unreadable.
"James," I breathed. "Please. You have to help us. Eleanor is... she's insane. She's going to kill us."
James said nothing. He just looked at us.
"She killed Father, didn't she?" Mother said suddenly. Her voice was steady, broken only by exhaustion. "His heart attack... it wasn't natural. She did something. Didn't she?"
James flinched.
I stared at him. Father's death had been sudden. Unexpected. He'd been healthy one day, gone the next. The doctors said heart attack. But if Eleanor had been planning this for years...
"Answer me!" Mother demanded.
James looked down. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible.
"I didn't know. Not at first. She told me it was an accident. That his medication had been mixed up. But then... the money. The threats. I found out. But by then it was too late. She had evidence against me. Things I'd done. She said if I didn't help her, she'd send me to prison."
He looked up at me, tears in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Claire. I'm so sorry. About the embezzlement. About everything. I was weak. I was scared."
Behind us, we heard voices. Eleanor and the men were coming back.
"James," I said. "Help us. Please. It's not too late to make this right."
He hesitated only a second.
"Come on," he said. "My car is around the corner. We'll get you to a hospital. And then we'll go to the police. All of us. Together."
He helped support Mother as we hurried down the street. I looked back once at the dark house.
Eleanor was standing on the porch.
She saw us leaving. She saw James with us.
May you like
And even from this distance, I could see her face.
Pure, unadulterated rage.
