Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Erin
It’s so strange to be back here in the cabin. The moors are even quieter than I remember. They alternate between an eerie absence of sound and howling wind.
Last night was my first night here, and it was a long one, filled with fear and dreams. I slept with a knife under my pillow. But I didn’t feel any safer.
The dream was Cass on the floor, a pool of red around her, clutching Ryan in her blood-streaked arms.
And before that, the months Ryan was born…
When I came to their house to help Cass with the baby…
My own helpless, soundless screams. The ones only I could hear—the ones in my head.
Whenever he would come.
When dawn finds the sky, I muster the courage to get out of bed. I quickly dress and put on my coat. I skip building the fire and warm myself by heating a kettle of water on the gas stove, with my fingers stretched out over the heat.
I sit at the table, tearing open the crinkling wrapper of a granola bar I packed for breakfast. A loud bang, something hitting the window, makes me jump out of my chair so quickly that the chair topples, crashing onto the wooden floor.
I clutch the wooden handle of the knife in my hand as I tiptoe towards the window from which the sound came, careful to stay unseen along the wall.
My heart beats in my throat, my knuckles white as I peer out the window.
Nothing?
I’m alone in the cabin, without Lucian’s protection.
I can’t control what I want.
I want him.
And I want my family to be safe.
I hold the knife at my side, making my way to the front door.
I couldn’t choose between them, so I’ve decided to fight to keep both of them safe. This time, I have to succeed.
This time, I won’t get caught up in a complicated mess.
And hopefully, throughout it all, I can keep Lucian safe from the pain of knowing that the moment I stepped into his place…
That from the very first time he laid eyes on me…
I was there to betray him.
This time, when I face Caleb and the urge to fight or flee takes over, I won't freeze.
This time, I won't let him hurt the people I care about.
Or me.
This time, I will hunt him.
I say the words out loud, “I’m hunting him,” to convince myself and boost my courage so I can open the door and see what caused that sound.
The cabin is chilly, but when I step outside, I realize the walls provide more protection than I had thought. The wind bites my face and hands, bitterly cold. I go to the window.
There’s a dead bird. “Poor thing.” He must have flown into the window. That was the sound I heard.
I kneel, reaching out not to touch him but to hold a hand over him. What am I doing? Saying a prayer? A blessing?
A wing moves.
Surprised, I stepped back on my heels, watching the bird come back to life, initially a bit off balance, then finally soaring into the gray skies.
As I stand, I notice boot prints under the window. Big ones. With thick tread.
My heart pounds in my chest, a sick feeling, white heat flashing over my face.
The prints are fresh. Deep in the soft, dark earth. Fertile soil, my dad would say.
There’s no way Caleb knows I’m here. Unless…am I out of time? Has it already been five days since they gave Cass the warning?
I cringe, remembering finding her there on the floor, the cut across her chest.
Blood.
It could be Caleb.
I picture him peering through the glass. Watching me sleep. Bringing me nightmares. Fear threatens to swallow me whole. With the toe of my own boot, I swipe back and forth over the dirt, erasing the prints from the ground as well as from my mind.
I have to forget about this. Or I’ll get too scared. I’ll freeze again.
I run into the cabin, grabbing my backpack and the notebook.
By noon, I’ve already visited the first three contacts.
The first said they didn’t know anything, but they looked scared. The second one slammed the door in my face. The third hesitated, but I could tell they wanted to talk.
A girl around my age, with white-blonde hair and dark circles under her eyes. Helena. She gave me two names, actually.
One was The Bureaucrat, a pub two towns over where she worked until last week. The other is the name of a girl who still works there.
Mary.
And the whisper of someone who disappeared last week.
Her and Mary’s friend, Gretchen.
I ride the train, then walk down cobblestone streets in a drizzling rain until I see a navy and maroon sign hanging from a brick building, The Bureaucrat written in gold, gilt-edged letters.
I slip inside and sit at an open table near the window. I pull the dusty wood chair to the table.
A wisp of a girl comes over to take my order.
She’s shy and a bit squirrely, her gaze darting to the front door at least three times as she takes my order.
“I’ll have the chicken pie.” I hand her back the menu, glancing at the faint bruises on her wrist.
“Right.” She tugs the sleeve of her shirt down to hide them.
“Helena told me I could find you here.”
“Helena?” She narrows her gaze.
I nod. “I just have a few questions for you. I’m… I’m looking for someone.”
“No.” She shakes her head, backing away from me. “I’ll go put your order in.”
I need to get her to talk to me. But how? She’s definitely tense. I see a glass cake stand on the shiny wood bar, holding a Victoria sponge, a two-layer buttery cake with cream and jam in the middle.
As she turns to leave, I add, “I’ll have a slice of cake, too.”
After I eat, she comes to clear my plate.
I slide the untouched cake towards her. “Sit.”
She gives me an uneasy look.
“Please.” I nod at the dessert. “I saved it for you.”
She glances at the gold clock on the wallpapered wall behind her. “My break is in ten. I’ll come back then.”
“Thanks.”
“Thanks for the cake.” She gives me a small smile.
Mary returns in ten minutes. Gretchen was their friend. She’d been acting strangely in the weeks before her disappearance, shifty, like she was scared of someone. Helena described Gretchen as a striking girl who made both men and women turn their heads.
As soon as she describes the missing girl, I know.
The Hoax is here. Caleb might be here, too.
I feel it in my skin.
I sense the familiar crawl—the feeling that someone’s watching, someone’s waiting.
He could be close.
He could be playing with me already.
I’m back at the train station, sitting on a bench with my arms folded over my backpack on my lap, my knee bouncing.
And then I see him.
Not clearly.
Just a quick glimpse of him behind a ticket machine on the other platform.
But it’s him.
I know that silhouette—that posture.
My stomach drops.
I tell myself I’m being silly, but then my phone vibrates—my burner phone. The one no one has the number to except Helena and Mary.
It’s a text.
No number.
No name.
Only a few words, but they’re enough to stop my blood.
Lovely to see you again, baby sister.
My knees almost give out as I stand. I fumble for the brick wall behind me, pressing against it as bile creeps up my throat.
I shove my phone into my backpack before throwing it over my shoulder. I look across to the platform, but he’s not there.
I should run, go back to New York. To Lucian.
Lucian.
His name flares inside me like a match, a heat I forgot I carried. Caleb wants me to be scared and weak. He thinks I’ll freeze up like I used to.
But I’m not the same Erin. Lucian didn’t just touch my body. He remade me. Taught me to feel again. I’ve never had the strength to stand up to Caleb before, but Lucian gave me the confidence I needed to fight.
And this time, I will fight.
The train arrives. I run down the platform, inspecting every car for Caleb’s face till I get to the last one. I hop on, slamming into an open seat just before the doors close.
I sit, my chest heaving, catching my breath. An older woman sits in a seat across the aisle from me. She leans in. “Are you alright, love?”
“I am,” I gasp. “Thanks.”
I’m safe.
For now.
It’s almost dark as I stumble back through town, heart pounding, every shadow a threat. My boots pad against the dirt path as I recite my plan.
I’ll go without fire or candles, lock every window, push the dresser in front of the door, and double the knives under my pillow.