Chapter 3 - The Cold Steel of the Back Door
"Where is she?!" Victoria shrieked, spotting the open window and the empty laundry basket. "She put the brat outside! Get her!"
Julian lunged forward, grabbing my black shawl and ripping me violently backward against the dryer. Pain flared through my lower back, but adrenaline surged through my veins like liquid fire.
"You're not touching that child!" I screamed.
With all the strength left in my sixty-two-year-old body, I grabbed a heavy glass bottle of liquid detergent from the shelf above the washer and smashed it directly into Julian’s face.
The thick blue liquid poured into his eyes. Julian howled in agony, dropping the fire poker and clutching his burning eyes. "Aaaaargh! I can't see! Victoria, grab her!"
Victoria lunged at me with manic strength, her manicured nails raking across my cheek, drawing blood. "You miserable old witch! You've ruined our entire lives!"
I ducked beneath her swinging arm, driving my elbow hard into her solar plexus. Victoria gasped for air, stumbling backward into the fractured doorframe. Without hesitating for a single second, I scrambled onto the washing machine, shoved my upper body through the hopper window, and dragged myself out into the pouring rain.
I hit the muddy earth with a thud, scraping my knees against the concrete edging.
"Chloe!" I hissed into the darkness.
"Grandma..." a tiny whimper came from underneath the thick rhododendron shrubs.
I scooped Chloe into my arms, pulling my wet coat around her shivering body. The freezing November rain was pouring down in sheets, soaking us instantly. Behind us, I heard Julian shouting curses from the kitchen, smashing furniture as he blindly tried to wash the soap from his eyes.
I ran.
My slippers sank into the soggy lawn as I sprinted toward the dense treeline that separated Julian’s five-acre estate from the neighboring county road. The wind screamed through the bare oak branches, tearing at my clothes. Chloe’s head rested limply against my shoulder; her skin was burning hot, her breathing growing more ragged by the second.
"Stay with me, Chloe. Stay awake, baby," I pleaded, breathless, my lungs burning with exhaustion.
Suddenly, the blinding glare of high-beam headlights cut through the darkness ahead.
A sleek black Mercedes SUV was parked at the end of the private gravel lane—the private transport vehicle Victoria had mentioned. A tall man in a dark trench coat stepped out of the driver's side, holding an umbrella and looking toward the house.
I froze behind a massive pine tree, hugging Chloe tightly against my chest. If that man saw us, we were dead.
May you like
Behind me, the back patio floodlights flickered on. Victoria stumbled out into the storm, drenched, holding a flashlight and screaming toward the driveway:
"Carl! Cut them off! The old woman took the girl into the woods! Don't let them reach the main road!"
Related Stories
