I throw open the door and behind me there’s an explosion—a gunshot, reverberating off the walls of the cabin. I leap off the porch and hit the grass sprinting. For three terrifying seconds I am completely vulnerable, a silhouette moving across the wide-open lawn, and I brace myself for the next explosion.
But it doesn’t happen. I dart through the shadows on the side of the big house, past the trash cans and recycling bins. I run across the front lawn and stop at the end of the two-car driveway. All the neighboring houses are dark. Everyone on the block is fast asleep. Nobody walks on Edgewood Street after midnight. And I don’t dare knock on a neighbor’s door—I have no idea how long it will take someone to come downstairs. Right now my biggest asset is speed—increasing the distance between me and Caroline. If I sprint I can be at the Flower Castle in three minutes, I can bang on the door and scream for Adrian’s parents to help me.
But then I glance back at the Maxwells’ house and realize Teddy is still sound asleep on the second floor. Oblivious to all the mayhem in his backyard.
What will happen when Caroline realizes I’ve escaped?
Will she take Teddy, throw him in the car, and flee to West Virginia? Or California? Or Mexico?
How far will she go to protect her secret?
Back at the cottage, there’s another gunshot. I want to hope for the best. I want to believe that Ted has somehow wrested the weapon away from his wife. Maybe in his dying moments, he has given me and Teddy a chance to escape.
But if he didn’t—well, I still have time to make things right. I’m a fast runner. I used to be the sixth-fastest girl in Pennsylvania. I dart around the side of the house to the backyard and thank you Jesus the sliding glass door to the kitchen is unlocked.
I enter the house and lock the door behind me. The first floor is dark. I hurry through the dining room and take the rear stairwell to the second floor. I crash into Teddy’s bedroom but don’t turn on the light. I just pull off his blankets and shake him awake. “Get up, Teddy, we have to go.” He pushes me away, burying his face in his pillow, but I don’t have time to baby him. I pull him off the bed and he grunts in protest, still half-asleep.
“Mallory!”
Caroline is already inside the house, calling to me from the foyer. I hear her climbing the wooden steps. I run the other way, taking the rear stairs back to the kitchen. Teddy can’t weigh more than forty pounds but I nearly drop him anyway; I hoist him over my shoulder, steadying my grip, and run outside to the back patio.
Outside, the yard is perfectly still. All I hear is the gentle lap of water in the swimming pool, the occasional trill of a cicada, and my own labored breathing. But I know Caroline is coming. She’s either moving through the inside of the house, or advancing around one of the sides. My safest route is forward, toward the Enchanted Forest. It’s a long sprint across the yard but I don’t think Caroline will shoot at me, not as long as I’m carrying Teddy. And once we make it to the trees, we can make our escape.
Teddy and I have spent the whole summer exploring these woods. We know all the trails and shortcuts and dead ends and there is just enough moonlight to guide our way. I tighten my grip on his body and then throw myself into the brambles, shoving through branches and vines and sticker bushes until we’re on the familiar terrain of Yellow Brick Road. The trail runs east-west, moving parallel along all the backyards on Edgewood. We follow it to the large gray Dragon’s Egg boulder, and then I veer off onto Dragon Path. I hear footsteps thrashing behind me, but in the darkness I’ve lost all sense of scale and perspective. I can’t tell if Caroline’s breathing down my neck or a hundred yards away. I also hear the faint cry of police sirens, all too late. If I had just run to the Flower Castle, I would be safe by now.
But I have Teddy squeezed tight in my arms, and that’s what really matters. I will not let anything happen to him.
The Royal River sounds louder in the dark and I’m grateful for its noise, concealing my footsteps. But then we arrive at Mossy Bridge and I don’t think I can do it. The log is too narrow and covered with moss and I can’t carry Teddy across.
“T-bear, listen to me. I need you to walk.”
He shakes his head no and squeezes me tighter. He doesn’t know what’s happening but he’s terrified. I try to set him down but his arms are locked around my neck. There are more and more police sirens wailing in the distance; they must have reached the Maxwells’ by now. Most likely a neighbor heard the gunshots and called the police. But they’re too far away to help me.
A narrow shaft of white light cuts through the forest. The flashlight beam on Caroline’s Viper. I don’t know if she’s spotted me but I have to keep moving. I tighten my grip around Teddy and take one step onto the bridge, then another. I can see enough to discern the shape of the log, but not its entire surface. I can’t tell which parts are rotten or speckled with slippery moss. Below us, the water is rushing swiftly, two or three feet deep. With every step forward I’m certain I’m going to slip off the sides, but somehow I keep my footing. I scramble up the trail to the base of the Giant Beanstalk before my arms give out. I can’t carry Teddy another inch. “Buddy, I need you to do this part yourself.” I point up to our hideout in the boughs of the tree. “Come on, you need to climb.”
He’s too petrified to move. Using the last of my strength, I push him onto the tree, and fortunately he grabs a branch to steady himself. Then I push up on his bottom and slowly, haltingly, he starts to move.
The flashlight beam sweeps across the base of the tree—Caroline’s at the river, she’s getting close. I grab the lowest limb and pull myself up, following Teddy from bough to bough, all the way up to a branch we call Cloud Deck. I wish we could climb even higher but there’s no time and I don’t dare risk the noise. “This is good,” I whisper. I put my arms around his waist, holding him close, and lower my mouth to his ear. “Now we just need to stay very quiet, okay? Are you all right?”
He doesn’t say anything. His body is trembling; it’s coiled like a spring. He seems to understand that no, we are not all right, something is very very wrong. I stare down at the ground and wish we’d climbed even higher. We’re only eight or ten feet above the trail and if Caroline stays on the path she will walk directly underneath us. If Teddy makes so much as a whimper—