“Or the trunk. They might be under all those grocery sacks.” Julianne grabbed a flashlight out of the kitchen drawer and stepped outside, the screen door squealing shut behind her. Amy listened to her mother’s footsteps thumping down the porch stairs, and from the window she saw Julianne’s silhouette moving through the trees, toward the driveway.
Amy went back to the sink and tackled the dirty dishes from dinner. Neither one of them had eaten very much tonight, and she scraped congealed spaghetti into the trash, washed and dried the dishes, and set them back in the cabinet.
Julianne hadn’t returned.
Amy looked out the window but didn’t see Julianne or any flicker of the flashlight. Where had her mother gone? She hovered between going outside to find Julianne and staying here, in the cheery light of the kitchen. The moments ticked by. Sheheard no cries, nothing to alarm her, only the chirp of crickets. Yet something was not quite right.
She stepped outside onto the porch. “Mom?” she called out.
There was no answer.
She saw no other house lights on the lake. Theirs was the only cabin occupied tonight. They were alone here, tucked into these woods and far from the main road. It was exactly where they’d wanted to be, but now Amy was having second thoughts. Wondering if coming here had been a mistake.
“Mom?”
Something splashed in the lake and she saw ripples disturb the reflection of moonlight on the water. Just a duck or a loon. Nothing to worry about. She went back into the cabin, but just as the screen door slapped shut behind her, she heard another sound. This one did not come from the lake; this was much closer. A rustling. A snap of a twig.
Footsteps.
She stared through the screen door, trying to make out who or what was approaching. Was it Julianne, returning from the car?
Then she saw the figure emerge from the shadow of the trees. It loomed on the path, silhouetted by the glow from the lake. Not Julianne. It was a man, and he was coming toward her.
That’s when she began to scream.