(Mis)fortune (Judgement of the Six #2)

“You have no idea,” I whispered more to myself than to him. “Tell me more about this big spread.”


He smiled wide. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been there. It’s an old three story with wrap-around porches. Before I left, my brother and I talked about dividing it into six apartments. From what he’s told me, he’s done the dividing and now just needs to complete the finishing work in three more apartments. It also has a huge backyard that’s a pain to mow, according to him,” he said with a slight laugh.

“Just you and your brother, then?”

“No, a friend of our parents, Winifred Lewis, who we call Nana Wini, moved in as soon as he completed the second apartment.”

I really wanted the picture he painted. A quiet secluded home where we could roam outside all day and, finally, in the sun. I wanted that badly. But I needed to think clearly, beyond what I wanted. What were my options? I could cut ties with this man, and the boys and I could try it on our own. With the truck, I might have a chance...if it was just me. I listened to the boys whispering in the bathroom. I couldn’t keep running as I was with them along. They needed a safe place, and if I wanted to give them that, I needed help. Accepting Emmitt’s help sounded nice, but what would be the repercussion?

Why couldn’t my premonitions just tell me what to do? I dropped my head into both hands, frustrated and afraid of making the wrong choice. Sometimes when things sounded too good to be true, it was because they were. His offer might be sincere. The place he described might even be real. But, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

“You should know they won’t stop looking for me. Ever.” I had to give him the chance to turn us away, and part of me cried at the thought of never finding a safe place to stay.

“Doesn’t matter to me. You’ll be welcome as long as you like,” he assured me.

I looked up as the boys walked out of the bathroom hand in hand. Both watched me closely, the little eavesdroppers. Their carefully blank expressions decided me. They tried to hide what they felt, just as we’d been taught, but I knew what hid behind their masks. We all were scared and needed somewhere to finally feel safe.

“We’ll go with you and take one day at a time,” I said, turning to meet Emmitt’s eyes. A wide smile split his face. It stole my breath again, and I hoped I was making the right decision.



Emmitt drove the rest of the night. The boys fell asleep almost immediately. I tried staying awake but gave up after twenty minutes. Several times, I woke and looked over at Emmitt’s face, illuminated by the dash lights. Each time my eyes fell on him, my stomach flipped and my heart fluttered. Without fail, he would sense my attention, meet my gaze, and gently say I needed more rest. My eyes always agreed and drifted closed again.

We continued driving the next day, stopping only for short breaks. Emmitt entertained the boys again with games, jokes, and stories while he casually watched the road behind us. I did the same. Whenever Emmitt caught me checking a mirror—he caught me every time—he assured me everything was okay. As the day progressed and there was no sign of David, my fears eased.

Before dinner, Emmitt posed a question.

“Do you want to stop for dinner or drive on to your new home?” He didn’t look away from the road as he said it, and I was glad. The way he said home had filled me with so much longing that I flushed. I glanced at the boys, but they didn’t voice an opinion.

“How much longer?”

“About thirty minutes,” he said.

“Let’s keep going.” Then I started to imagine every possible scenario that we might find when we arrived, from nudist commune to axe murderer in waiting.

My nervousness grew, and I paid closer attention as we drove. We passed a bar, which Emmitt said had good food. Across the street from it, a small convenience store’s window displayed a blinking neon sign for beer. After that building, there was nothing but trees and a few rutted driveways whose frequency decreased the further we drove. My stomach churned with worry. Please don’t be a weirdo.





Chapter 3


The truck began to slow, and I spotted a rutted, gravel path marked with a battered, metal mailbox. Emmitt eased onto the tree-lined drive. I nervously clasped my hands in my lap and listened to branches scrape the truck as he followed the bumpy trail. After a distance, the trees gave way to an impressive view of a huge and slightly rundown house. Wider than it was tall, the building had a wrap-around balcony on each of its three levels just as Emmitt had described.

Emmitt followed the driveway to the rear of the house and parked near the back porch steps. Turning the key to cut the engine, he smiled down at the boys.

“Welcome home.”

Home. My stomach lurched in a worried way while my heart excitedly fluttered.

He looked up at me, his smile fading slightly as if sensing my turmoil.