“You don’t need to find evidence. You need to go home before something terrible happens to you.”
Her teeth chattered. The cold air coming in through the open window was even colder. Mattie smelled snow on the air.
It will cover the proof of them, and I’ll be safe from William. It might even send them off the mountain. They can’t want to sleep outdoors in a snowstorm.
“You don’t look so good,” C.P. said.
“I’m just c-cold,” Mattie said. “I have to shut the window.”
This was clearly meant to send Griffin and C.P. on their way, but they both hesitated.
“I really think we should take you to a doctor . . .” Griffin began.
Something exploded out of Mattie then, something she didn’t even recognize.
“I told you I don’t need a doctor. I don’t want a doctor. Why won’t you listen to me? Why are all men the same? You’re just like William, who never listens to a thing I say, never thinks I have anything important to say. I talk and I talk and I tell you that you need to leave, to get off this mountain before you’re ripped apart like those animals, but you just ignore me and only think about what you want, what you think should happen. Stop talking about a doctor and start talking about collecting your friend before something terrible occurs.”
She stalked toward the window and yanked it down in front of their stunned faces.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mattie pulled the curtains together so she could no longer see the men outside. There was something burning in her, an over-bright feeling that half made her think she could shoot flames from her eyes.
One of the strangers （that’s right, they are strangers, they aren’t your responsibility） immediately banged on the window, shouting something, but Mattie backed away and out of the bedroom. She didn’t think they would break through the window or try to hurt her, but she didn’t want to take a chance. And she didn’t want to listen to them shouting, either.
She shut the bedroom door to trap any lingering cold air in there and went out to huddle by the fire, which was low. William had left some firewood for her and she carefully placed two logs with trembling hands.
What had made her scream like that, made her behave in such a way? That wasn’t like her at all.
If you acted that way around William, that would be the end of you.
They weren’t the sort of men who would hit her just for losing her temper. At least, she didn’t think they were—how could she really know? She was pretty certain, though. And because she felt safe, felt that they wouldn’t beat her senseless for speaking her mind, she’d vented her feelings on them—and more than just her current feelings, too. She’d vented the feelings that she’d been tamping down for years.
I shouldn’t have done that. They were only trying to be kind.
Mattie felt a little guilty then, felt that she ought to apologize, but then decided against it. She didn’t want to be drawn into another conversation with them. Despite their kindness, there was nothing else to say. She’d tried to convince them that it would be dangerous to stay on the mountain. She didn’t think she’d succeeded, but she could hope. Perhaps they would consider her words later and escape before they were harmed.
A pounding at the front door startled a little scream out of her before she could swallow it.
“Miss? Miss? I mean, ma’am. Listen, I’m sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean to . . . Well, could you come out and talk to us again? Maybe at the door this time? We could really use your help.”
They knew she was inside the house, so she couldn’t pretend not to be at home.
But you aren’t required to answer them. You aren’t.
（You’re being a fool. They could help you. They could help you run away.）
Except that they aren’t leaving the mountain. They’re going to stay and tramp around and try to find the creature, and what good will it do you to trail after them while they do that? William will come after you and if the creature doesn’t get you then he’ll shoot all of them and it will be on your head.
No, Mattie realized that she couldn’t trust anyone to help her. If they helped and were hurt because of it, she’d never forgive herself.
“Miss? Miss?”
Mattie wondered why Griffin was calling her “miss.” Then she remembered that she’d never told them her name.
（What is your name, anyway?）
“Go away, Samantha,” Mattie whispered. “I don’t have time for you right now.”