Page 37 of The Sinner: James

Eve presses her forefinger against her lips.

“James?” Lex calls out in the other room.

“Yeah...” a hoarse voice answers near us.

“You need to see this.”

We both mouth ‘Fuck’ as James pulls away from us and steps out the door.

Their voices soon become muffled in the living room.

“Do you think they have surveillance cameras inside the house?” I ask although it’s only a useless afterthought.

She shrugs, and I run the back of my hand over my face to wipe away my sweat when I notice the blood dripping from my forearm.

Warm blood smears my skin before splashing on the floor.

“We have to leave immediately,” I say, pointing to my scratched forearm. “Like right now.”

We leave our hiding place and tiptoe to the door.

A moment later, we check the hallway and make the trip back to the center of the house.

Glancing around the living room, I spot James and Lex. They’re inspecting the tiles, their backs to us.

It’s now, or never, so I dash to the exit door with Eve behind me without giving it a second thought.

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice shouts.

Startled, we slip through the main door and sprint down the stairs, running for our lives, heavy steps trailing us closely.

Two or three men are running after us. We split up in front of the house, and they do the same.

Eve makes a beeline for the gate while I dart behind a group of trees, heading straight for the woods.

Not before long, their footfalls fade, and soon after, I hit a wall of silence.

Panting, I pull to a stop and bend at the waist, trying to catch my breath while glancing around.

Covered in dirt and leaves and open on both sides, an old tunnel catches my eye.

I quickly sneak inside with my ears perked up.

There are no whispers, no footsteps, and not even the crackling of branches snapping off.

I pull my phone out and text Eve, hoping for a miracle. She doesn’t answer.

The wind blows strong, swirling leaves around, their rustling distracting me for a moment.

And then… When I least expect it, a dense beam of light floods the tunnel at the far end, and instinctively I dash to the other exit, only to get blinded by another wall of lights.

That’s when I hear a voice.

“Got her,” a man says, a firm hand cuffing my elbow as they close in on me.

“Well, well, well... Look, what the cat dragged in.”

“Edward?” I murmur as the voices I'm not familiar with start wolf-whistling.

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