And then she moves in the direction of our house.
My heart is pounding painfully. What is she doing? Why is she coming here with a knife? Is she angry that I was watching her?
I throw the binoculars onto the bed, like they’re made of fire. She couldn’t have seen that I had them. And even if she did, she wouldn’t kill me over it, would she? It’s not like I saw anything terrible. I just saw her sitting in her room. That’s all.
She’s definitely moving toward the house. There’s no doubt about it. And she’s still got that knife gripped in her hand.
Oh god oh god oh god oh god…
And now she’s at our front door. I hear her knock, but I stay perfectly still. But then a horrible thought occurs to me.
Nick may not have locked the front door.
We were always lax about locking doors. After all, it’s pretty deserted out here and we never had much worth stealing.
And then I hear the footsteps coming from downstairs. Oh my God. She’s inside.
I grab my phone. The first thing I do is text Nick: Please come here now! Somebody is in the house! Then I dial 911, although it will be far too late by the time they arrive.
“Emergency services,” a female voice says.
“Please help me,” I croak. “There’s an intruder in my house.”
“I’m sorry… I can’t…… you’re saying.”
Great. The storm must have damaged the closest cell phone tower.
The footsteps are growing louder, and now I hear a loud creak. She’s on the stairs. I don’t have much time.
“Please.” Tears leap into my eyes. “You’ve got to help me! There’s somebody in my house. In the house next to the Baxter Motel on I-93 N.”
“Ma’am…… can’t……”
And now the phone is dead.
The creaking noise stops. She must’ve reached the top of the stairs. In two seconds, she’ll be in my bedroom. With that knife.
She’s going to kill me.
Isn’t this what I wanted though? I was just looking up how to kill myself on Google. And now this stranger is going to do the job for me. Why am I calling 911? I should open the door for her. Welcome her.
Except I realize at this moment that I don’t want to die.
As my heart pounds rapidly in my chest, it’s like a fog has lifted from my brain. The fog that’s been coloring every moment of my life for the last five years. My life isn’t hopeless, and I don’t want to die. I want my restaurant back. I want to get those contractors in and convert the kitchen so I can use it again even if I can’t stand or walk. I want to do a course of physical therapy so that I can take care of myself again and I don’t have to depend on Nick for every little thing.
And I want Nick. I don’t want him to leave. I don’t want him to find some other woman and be happy with her. I want him to be happy with me again. I want to start a family with him.
But most of all, I want him. I want him so badly. I don’t want to die before seeing him again.
The door to my bedroom swings open. The dark-haired woman is standing there in her pea green winter coat, a knife glinting in her right hand. I push my hands against the wheels of my chair and hit the wall behind me.
“You…” she hisses at me.
I raise my hands in the air. “I’m sorry. Whatever you think I did, I’m sorry.”
“You know what happened to my sister,” she snaps at me.
“Your… sister?” Is she the sister of the blond woman?
She raises the knife and takes a step towards me. “Don’t play dumb.”
I glance down at my phone. Nick hasn’t responded to my text. He probably hasn’t even seen it. He’ll read it just in time to discover my dead body. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“Liar…”
“Please…” A tear escapes my right eye. “I didn’t do anything to your sister. I swear.”
She takes another step forward. Her eyes are pools of darkness, staring into mine. “I never said you did.”
Chapter 37
ROB
Three hours earlier
Most of the time, the first thing I do when I get home is take a shower.
Claudia requires it. Not that it’s a terrible idea. When you’re working on people’s toilets, you get your hands dirty. Claudia claims there’s grease and grime permanently ground into the creases of my hands but that’s not true. I can get them clean if I want. If I scrub for a long time.