Page 17 of Silver Hills' Christmas Miracle

I had to get to him.

‘Okay, where are you?’

‘Idk, some kind of woodshed?’

I told Anton to stay exactly where he was and hurried to the balcony. We didn’t have a woodshed, but we did have a small outbuilding that my father had built and then abandoned once he’d gotten bored. It was supposed to be a hang-out for his friends with a bar and entertainment system, but he never followed through.

Luckily, that was near the back of the house. All I had to do was get there and send Anton on his way before anyone caught him.

This wasn’t the first time I’d used the trellis by my window to climb down to the garden. Many nights in my teen years were spent sneaking out to see my friends or pretending I could run away after an argument. Age had weathered the trellis, and several wooden slats crumbled faintly under my grip as I climbed down around the creeping ivy, but it held my weight easily. I made it to the ground safely and dusted the wood particles from my hands.

With the guards patrolling and the manor on high alert, making it across the back garden without being seen was going to be a challenge. A fun one, at the very least. As a kid, my lack of understanding around my father’s job had me believing he was some kind of spy, and I’d had many spy missions running around this garden. This was no different.

Keeping close to the wall, I moved down the garden path and then froze as footsteps crunched on the gravel ahead of me. Two voices slowly came out of the dark.

“This is bullshit,” said one.

“It’s the rules,” said the second.

“Yeah, well I don’t see the point of scouring every inch of this place. Just lock everyone up in the building and wait to see if anyone approaches,” one replied.

“You heard Rook,” muttered the second. “He’s not taking any chances.”

“Dude’s treating it like a fucking military operation,” one continued to grumble.

I shrank back against the wall as they passed. When they walked into the light, I recognized them as two of the house guards who were likely more used to patrolling the inside than actually facing any real danger. I also didn’t particularly like how they spoke about Rook. He was doing his job, and pretty well, if the alarm was anything to go by.

The two guards walked past where I was hidden in the bushes and continued on down the path toward the garage. I waited until their footsteps were faint, then I continued on my own path toward the back shed. Sprinting across the lawn was the most nerve-racking. I kept expecting a giant spotlight to appear and land right on me, followed by Rook scolding me for sneaking out where there was an intruder. Or trip wires to catch on my ankles and bundle me up in a net until Rook came to rescue me.

Okay, that one would be hot, though. I could go for that.

Breathless, I made it to the edge of the hut and pressed against the wall, staring back over my shoulder. No guards came sprinting after me and no lights glared down from the roof. I was safe.

“Anton?” I hissed softly, creeping toward the back of the building. “Anton, are you here?”

“Kitty?” A man’s head suddenly poked out from the side of the building, then his body followed once we locked eyes. He was tall and gangly with slicked-back black hair and a few pockmarks across his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you we have to talk in person.”

“I get that,” I muttered, grabbing his arm and pulling him back behind the building out of sight, “but we could have met up in town or something. Coming here, you’ve tripped all sorts of alarms.”

“Wait, really?” Anton scoffed and peered past me toward the manor. “So fucking pretentious. What is this, Fort Knox?”

“No, I just have some really efficient security.” I kept one ear out for the sound of footsteps as I eyed him. “So come on. Out with it. What couldn’t you say in an email?”

“Emails are traceable,” Anton said, sighing deeply and giving me an unpleasant whiff of stale cigarette smoke. “I thought you’d appreciate my asking you this face-to-face so nothing could be linked back to you.”

“Ask me what?” I repeated, quickly growing irritated.

“The mayor’s meeting.”

“Yes?” I sharply raised a brow. “What about it?”

“We scouted the place out. Using the mayor’s old security plans, we have a pretty good idea of how secure the place will be, and we want to make sure he listens to us. So we need you to let us in.”

“Into the building?”

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