Page 46 of From the Darkness

His voice turned urgent as he said, “If you want to do something for me, get Dinah out of here.”

He’d said that before, which meant it must be weighing on his mind.

“What about you?”

“It’s too late for me.”

“No!” Her eyes snapped open, and she reached out a hand. But in the shaft of moonlight coming from the edge of the curtains, she could see she was alone. Had Troy really come to her? Were the things he told her true? Or had she just imagined the whole conversation?

On the floor below, a grandfather clock struck midnight—reminding her of the decision she’d made earlier.

Troy had told her to get out of here and take Dinah. But it was clear she wasn’t going to do it without help.

Hoping it was late enough to make an assault on the office, she pulled on slippers and stepped into the hall, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

It was still as death as she headed for the stairs, praying that she didn’t run into Graves the way she had that first afternoon when she’d been going to investigate Troy’s room.

She tried to tread lightly, but every time one of the old risers squeaked, she froze. Finally, she made it to the main floor and breathed out a little sigh.

Feeling like a thief in the night, she tiptoed toward the kitchen and retrieved the flashlight from the cabinet where Mrs. Martindale kept it.

She was about to step into the hall again, when the sound of voices made her freeze in her tracks.

It was Nola and Abner, heading toward her—just around a bend in the hallway.

She had only seconds to find a hiding place—or come up with an explanation for her presence down here.

She chose stealth. Slipping behind the kitchen door, she pressed her shoulders against the wall.

Abner came clomping down the passageway. Nola’s quick, nervous little steps accompanied him. They were speaking in harsh whispers—but Bree couldn’t make out the words.

Lord, what if they were coming here. To the kitchen. She froze, trying to blend into the walls, knowing that if she moved, they would discover her. Then she’d have to come up with some other lie—about being hungry. When the thought of food was enough to make her sick.

She waited for the pounding of her heart to give her away. It sounded to her as loud as the drumming noise she’d heard in the grove of trees.

The couple’s steps slowed, and she felt her throat close. When they made their way past the doorway, she eased out the breath she’d been holding.

Nola began to speak. “You know what I wish—I wish Helen had never invited us here. If I’d known she was going to give us all those damn directions about what we could and couldn’t say, I would have told her to shove it.”

“You had a better suggestion?” Abner asked. “We were flat broke, and the invitation was a godsend.”

Bree didn’t hear her answer. She was still focused on the woman’s previous statement. Had she heard that right? Helen? Were they saying that Helen had invited them?

Surely that must be a mistake. Helen had told her that they were distant cousins down on their luck, and Troy had allowed them to move in—-over her veto. She’d said she was worried about what the Sterlings might have done since arriving, because Troy wasn’t paying enough attention to the world around him.

While Bree was trying to make sense out of that, Nola spoke again.

“You’ve got to find him!”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried.”

“He’s got the run of the estate. But I never see him.”

“Nobody sees him,” Abner snapped. “Except the kid. And two to one, she’s lying.”

Him? Troy?

It sounded like they had the same opinion as Mrs. Martindale.

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