Page 76 of Between Dusk and Dawn

"Stop. Come through the woods. I'll hide the keys to the Honda under the back mat, and Rain will know you're borrowing it."

"But Walsh…"

"He kept a secret from me for a whole fucking year, so I think I can manage waiting a little while you figure whatever you need to out."

A wave of relief washed over me. Grateful for Ember's assistance, I knew I had to be cautious. He was watching, and I needed to execute this escape with precision. Pretending to head out to the barn, I planned to slip away through the woods, exploiting the small blind spots the cameras offered.

I grabbed a pair of jeans, an oversized sweatshirt and a bralette. Quickly, I packed a few horse brushes and shampoo into a bag, just in case he zoomed in on the bag from the cameras. Along with these, I tried to sneak in one outfit and some toiletries, making a quick effort to be discreet.

Making my way downstairs, I pulled out a brush and went through the motions, creating a facade for the watchful eyes. "Hi, Fire," I greeted the horse, sharing a carrot and a whispered promise to return soon.

Surveying the barn one last time, I steeled myself for the anticipated fallout. If he could disappear for days without explanation, so could I. Recalling the suffocating feeling of being trapped stirred a visceral reaction within me. Memories of a lifetime spent ensnared in various roles, always striving to be someone I wasn't, flooded my mind. Even pursuing a master's in psychology felt like entrapment. School had been a sanctuary, but the constant pressure to conform left me yearning for freedom.

With determination burning in my chest, I took a deep breath, ready to break free from the chains that had bound me for far too long. The echoes of past captivity wouldn't dictate my future. The woods beckoned, and I embraced the uncertainty that lay ahead.

Unlike Walsh, who would have meticulously planned his escape, I had no plan. I craved the familiarity of home and wasdesperate to find it. Slowly, I made my way to the edge of the property while everyone celebrated. It was the perfect time to leave while they were distracted by the holiday. With one final nod at the house, I hoped that the next time I returned, it would be on my own terms.

I used the little flashlight I’d brought to find my way straight to Ember’s backyard. It wasn’t hard, and I didn’t have to go far. She’d left a few lights in the backyard on.

As I approached the back porch where the key was hidden, the soft glow from the kitchen window spilled warmth onto the wooden slats. My heart raced, knowing I was just that much closer to getting a sense of freedom back as I carefully made my way to the porch, casting a quick glance inside.

To my surprise, what awaited me beyond that window was a scene of pure domestic bliss. Ember and Rain were dancing in the cozy kitchen, their laughter mingling with the strains of a familiar holiday tune. The Christmas tree stood adorned with twinkling lights and ornaments, a festive display of joy I hadn't experienced before. They were indulging in the simple pleasure of a shared meal, a warmth that permeated the room and spilled into the cold darkness.

As I stood there, hidden in the shadows, a profound realization washed over me. The house before me wasn't just a residence, it was a home, a haven filled with love and laughter. For the first time, I witnessed the genuine connection that eluded me for so long. It was a stark contrast to the emptiness I felt in Walsh’s home, devoid of…him.

The decision to sneak around for the car key now held a deeper significance. I wasn't merely escaping or hiding; I was seeking a place that felt like home, one where love and happiness thrived. The house in front of me represented everything I yearned for—a sanctuary from the shadows that had hauntedme. The contrast was palpable; their home radiated authenticity while mine was a place of pretense and illusion.

This time, my escape wasn't about running away from him or concealing my true self. It was a deliberate act of self-preservation—a journey to safeguard my true, authentic self. As I slipped the key from beneath the mat, I knew the path I was embarking on would lead me not only to a physical destination, but also to the discovery of a home that resonated with the echoes of genuine love and belonging.

I tiptoed around the house, the key clutched in my hand. As I reached the front, I felt a moment of hesitation, a fleeting worry someone might notice. Yet the night remained silent, devoid of any alarms or the clamor of guards. It was as if the universe had granted me this moment of escape, allowing me to slip away undetected.

Approaching Ember's car, I found solace in the familiar hum of the engine coming to life. The soft purr echoed the promise of freedom, and I eased the vehicle down the driveway, gliding through the small street that led to the winding mountain path toward Isles. The world outside seemed vast, embracing me with the cool night air and the scent of pine as I ascended the mountain.

Without surveillance or immediate pursuit, I felt liberated. Driving through the quiet, moonlit roads, the car purred gently beneath me.

As I navigated the winding roads, a mix of anticipation, fear, and hope swirled within me. The night and darkness concealed my movements. The car hugged the curves, carrying me higher into the mountains and away from Dansport.

The surroundings changed as I ascended—the air grew crisper, the silence deeper, and the mountain shadows told tales of solitude and resilience.

Approaching the entrance to Isles, the grand stone archway welcomed me. Cobblestone streets rumbled gently under the tires as I navigated the quiet streets. The old buildings, adorned with ivy and history, stood as silent witnesses to the town's stories, their windows glowing with warm, amber lights.

Heading toward the edge of town, the cobblestones gave way to a narrower path that led me to the guest house—an abode that had once been my sanctuary. As the car settled into stillness, I found myself on the precipice of the past, standing at the threshold of a place where fragments of my identity awaited rediscovery.

As I stepped out of the car, the crisp night air greeted me with a familiar chill, the kind that whispered secrets of past winter nights in Isles. Though the guest house didn't carry the weight of "home" in the conventional sense, its familiarity provided a refuge I desperately needed. I walked up to the entrance, a quaint door that held countless memories within its wooden frame.

Gratitude washed over me as I discovered the spare key still concealed beneath the potted plants I’d once placed there. The door creaked open, and I entered the dimly lit space. Even though my belongings had been relocated to Dansport, the essence of the guest house remained the same.

Dropping my bag without a care, I left the door unlocked and made my way toward Main Street. The bars, usually vibrant with laughter and warmth, beckoned in the distance. The town, wrapped in the quiet hush of Christmas Eve, seemed to hold its breath.

As I strolled down the cobblestone path, I couldn’t help but remember the last time I was here with Walsh. It was where he’d found me and stalked me, and even though our meeting was unconventional, I felt a tug in my chest, as if I was doing something wrong.

"Maybe I should’ve brought my phone," I whispered. I didn’t want him to find me or track me, and I needed one night. If he couldn’t be there for me for days on end, then he could manage a few hours without me there.Who knows, maybe I’ll be back in Dansport before he even logs into the cameras again.

The bars came into view, their lights casting a soft glow that spilled onto the pavement. A mix of excitement and trepidation pulsed through me, uncertain of what awaited beyond those doors. I pushed open the door of the nearest establishment, the warmth and murmur of voices enveloping me like a familiar embrace.

The festive ambiance of the bar welcomed me, the air thick with the scent of aged wood and the melodies of laughter. A glance around revealed the comforting sight of locals gathered in celebration, and I was grateful I was not the only person here.

I found an empty stool at the bar, the polished wood cool beneath my fingertips. As I settled in, a mix of nostalgia lingered in the air. Tonight, on Christmas Eve, amidst the echoes of Isles, I sought solace and the possibility of rediscovering fragments of myself that I had lost for many years.

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