Chapter 10 - The Unraveling
Inside the dark bedroom, Paige and I stood frozen, listening to the cacophony of the storm outside and the terrible, creeping silence inside the house.
Rain battered the windows like handfuls of thrown gravel. Paige sat on the edge of the bed, holding the unlit flashlight like a club, her breath hitching every few seconds. I leaned against the back of an armchair, my heart hammering against my fractured ribs so violently it felt like they would snap again.
Then, the floorboards in the hallway outside began to creak.
It wasn't the heavy, hurried stride of Nolan's work boots. These steps were slow, deliberate, accompanied by a rhythmic, metallic clicking sound.
*Tap. Click. Step.*
*Tap. Click. Step.*
A cane.
My blood ran completely cold.
Lorraine was in the house.
"Nolan?" Paige called out in a trembling whisper toward the door.
No response.
*Tap. Click. Step.*
The footsteps stopped directly outside the master bedroom door.
Silence stretched for five unbearable seconds. Then, the brass door handle slowly began to turn downward. It strained against the heavy deadbolt, rattling the latch within the doorframe.
"Clara, dear?"
Lorraine's voice drifted through the wooden panels. It wasn't the frantic screech she had directed at the police, nor the sweet, patronizing lilt she used at family dinners. It was completely flat, drained of all human warmth, hollow and razor-sharp.
"I know you're in there, little bird," Lorraine murmured. "You always were so predictable. Hiding behind closed doors while stronger people make decisions."
"Go away, Lorraine!" Paige screamed, tears spilling down her cheeks. "The police know everything! They're on their way!"
A soft, low chuckle vibrated through the wood. "The police are currently searching an empty motel room near the turnpike, Paige. By the time they realize I never left the neighborhood, this will all be settled."
"Where is Nolan?" I demanded, finding my voice through the terror, my nails digging into the upholstery of the chair. "What did you do to your son?"
"Nolan is indisposed," Lorraine said smoothly. "He took after his father too much. Always soft. Always worried about morals and fairness. He never understood what it takes to protect a family's legacy. He chose you over his own blood. And choices have consequences."
We heard the heavy scrape of metal against metal. A crowbar was being wedged into the doorframe between the jamb and the lock.
"Paige," I whispered, panic clawing at my throat. "The window. We have to break the window."
May you like
Paige lunged for the heavy desk chair, dragging it toward the bedroom window facing the garden. But before she could swing it, the bedroom door gave a tremendous splintering groan as the wood around the deadbolt cracked under enormous pressure.
***
