14. Kristin
KRISTIN
My whole body shook from the cold and the adrenaline still surging through me.
Pain flared along my ribs and behind my eyes from the fall, but I kept moving.
By the time I reached the porch, Henry was limp and warm in my arms. I pushed the door open with my hip, and the house greeted me with a hollow quiet, the kind that didn’t feel empty so much as paused.
When the kitchen came into view, my breath snagged. A fresh casserole sat on the counter, placed there by someone who moved with time and intention. Judi Vee.
First there were three, then two, now one.
What was this? Some sort of casserole countdown.
How long had she been inside my home? What else had she touched?
The clock on the stove said it was half past nine.
Hailey and Patrick had left a little after seven.
I’d gone out to the gate shortly after that.
Taking care of the deer couldn’t have taken more than an hour.
Maybe an hour and a half. Which meant I’d been unconscious for at least thirty minutes.
But I was sure Judi Vee had been inside my house before I fell. I’d heard her voice over the baby monitor—at least, I thought I had.
Henry . . . tell your mommy it’s time to leave.
How did she know his name? I tightened my hold on Henry, wishing that he could tell me what happened while I was gone.
The foil covering the casserole gleamed under the kitchen light. It was proof that someone felt comfortable enough to come inside and leave their mark. Evidence that someone felt entitled to my space.
I set Henry in his swing, checking the straps twice, then grabbed the dish and stormed to the front door. I flung it open and dropped the casserole from waist height. It hit the concrete with a violent crack, and I didn’t care if it cracked or shattered into a million pieces. Hell, I hoped it did.
I slammed the door and stood there for a second, forcing air into my lungs. Then I called Patrick. He didn’t answer. I called again and was met with his voicemail. On the third call, he finally picked up.
“Kris?” he whispered. “I’m in the middle of a class. Is everything okay?”
“No,” I said, breath hitching. “Everything is not okay.”
I moved through the house, checking rooms, windows, corners, and closets. I was desperate to make sure Judi hadn’t done anything else, and I was terrified of what I might find or what I wouldn’t find.
“What happened? Class!” His voice was distant. “Chat among yourselves for a few minutes.” He was quiet for a moment. “Sorry. I stepped out. What’s going on? Is Henry okay?”
“He’s fine.”
“And you?” He hesitated. “You sound . . . off.”
That’s how he’d described me since I had Henry, and I hated it with everything in my being. But now wasn’t the time to get into an argument.
“I slipped on the driveway,” I said. “I hit my head, and I was knocked out for God knows how long.”
“Jesus, Kris, are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
“No, I’m fine, but—” My breath shook. “When I woke up, she was standing over me.”
“Who was?”
“Judi Vee.” The name tasted like rust in my mouth. “And she was holding Henry.”
“Why would she—?”
“Because she was in our house!” I snapped. “Before I fell. Before any of it. I heard her on the baby monitor.”
“Kris—”
“I heard someone! They whispered Henry’s name, and they told me to leave.”
“Kris. You said you hit your head. Is it possible you—”
“Don’t!” I warned, fury flooding my chest. “Don’t you dare. I’m not crazy. I’m not making this up.”
“Hey. Hey.” His voice softened, careful now. “No one said ‘crazy.’ I’m just trying to understand. None of this makes sense, and you told me you were knocked out.”
“You think I hallucinated someone taking my baby? Patrick, she was standing over me when I woke up.”
“No.” He paused. “Kris, I believe you. I do,”
The relief was immediate and humiliating. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to hear it until he said it.
“I’m coming home,” he added. “I’ll get someone to cover my classes.”
“Okay, but we can’t stay here.” I gripped the counter so hard my knuckles burned. “We need to leave.”
“Leave? Where would we go?”
“Anywhere but here. I’m telling you, if we don’t leave soon, I don’t think we’ll get another chance.”
His breath caught. “Just . . . stay put. Take care of Henry. I’ll be home as fast as I can. And please don’t . . . don’t do anything, Kris. Okay?”
He wasn’t rushing home because he believed me. He was rushing home because he didn’t trust me to be alone. My mouth opened, but he hung up before I could respond.
The phone slipped from my hand and clattered onto the counter. I crossed the room and lifted Henry from his swing, pressing my face into his warm neck.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I whispered.
Patrick wasn’t going to save us—not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t think we needed saving. And the terrifying truth was, I wasn’t sure he was wrong.