Page 34 of Otto: The Hawthornes

“What are you doin’ here?” he asked at the same time, coming to a stop on the first stair.

My question had been answered before I finished it. I swallowed hard. “I live here.”

“You livehere?”

I nodded, raising my chin proudly even though everything inside me shriveled with embarrassment. I’d never been so grateful to have washed my hair.

“You two obviously know each other,” Otto’s dad said, taking a couple steps forward. He glanced at my belly. “Pretty well?”

“This is Esther,” Otto replied, his eyes still on me. “Yeah, we know each other.”

“This is all very entertaining,” the younger guy said. “But we’ve got some other shit goin’ on.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rumi,” Otto snapped, making me flinch.

The older man that wasn’t Rumi’s dad came closer. “We’re lookin’ for somethin’, darlin’,” he said, his voice not unkind. “You got anythin’ in there that we might be searchin’ for?”

I stared at him blankly for a moment before I remembered the guns. Instinctively, I took a step backward, reaching out to grip the door.

“Hey, it’s okay, sugar,” Otto murmured, following me. “No one’s gonna hurt you.”

“Why are you here?” I asked, the words echoing hollowly in my ears.I knew. I didn’t know how it came to be, or why in the world they’d be looking for those crates under my floorboard, but I knew with deep certainty they were there for the guns. What in the world was Otto involved in?

Otto stared at me for a moment before looking over at his dad. Then his eyes came back to mine. “Shipment of wooden crates got stolen yesterday mornin’,” he said, searching my face. “You know anythin’ about that?”

I wanted to tell him no. Disappointment and disillusionment and some kind of odd loyalty to my family made my head spin. If I told him they weren’t there, would he believe me? Would any of the other men who were getting closer and closer to the cabin believe me? I looked around the sea of faces.

No. Even if I told them the guns weren’t there, the men would still search. Maybe they wouldn’t find them. It was a possibility. I hadn’t even known about the trap door for months. But if they did find them and I’d pretended not to know what they were talking about? I had a feeling things would turn ugly really fast.

“They’re inside,” I replied finally, stepping back into the cabin. “Come in.”

Otto’s eyes widened in disbelief as he followed me inside.

The cabin had become normal for me, but by the looks on the men’s faces, it was far from normal to them. They were scowling, staring, wide-eyed, frowning. For the first time, it felt like there wasn’t enough room inside my little haven. Shame burned through me. Why hadn’t I put the supplies away? There were still bags of things all over the floor and it made the space look messy. I brushed the hair out of my face as I strode toward the kitchen area, putting the revolver down on the table. It wasn’t as if I would use it anyway.

“Where?” Otto’s dad asked, looking around.

“Could you take a step back?” I asked one of the men who was standing right on top of the trap door.

“Uh, sure,” he mumbled. He shuffled back, still scanning the room with his gaze.

Trying not to die of shame and embarrassment, I knelt down on the floor and ran my fingers along the board that I was pretty sure was the edge of the door. When my fingers finally felt the catch, I dug them in and jerked upward, pulling the door open.

“Holy fuck,” the man named Rumi muttered. “We would’ve never found it.”

I didn’t have time to feel guilty that I’d given away the hiding place for no reason, because the older man was coming forward, his eyes on me.

“Booby-trapped?” he asked calmly.

“What?”

“Is it booby-trapped?”

“I—” I looked down at the hole. “I don’t know. I don’t think so?”

“You live here?”

“Yeah.”

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