LEAVE
LEAVE
LEAVE
I ripped the picture off the wall and threw it across the room with a roar. It didn’t make me feel better to see it shatter all overthe back of the sofa—Charlie had sat there with me only a few hours ago.
He’d whispered my name and pulled me close, and we’d made love on that piece of furniture. He’d trusted me and cherished me and put me back together in this room, in this cabin, built by the man who’d?—
My brain short-circuited.
No.
No.
I was wrong. I had to be. This cabin was built by myDad,not some faceless monster.
He was a good man. He’d raised me with care and support and unwavering love; he’d been there for me during some of my darkest days, always,alwaysshowing up right when I needed him most. He’d never failed to ensure I knew how much he and Mom loved and cared for me.
It was all a coincidence. It had to be.
I blinked and found myself standing at the back door, the handle gripped tightly in my fist. I thought I wasn’t sure what I searched for when I came here, but that was a lie.
It’s not him.It’s not him,I chanted in my head, tears streaming down my face as I stepped out into the pitch-black night air.
The motion-sensor floodlight flared to life, casting long, harsh shadows into the trees beyond. They cradled the small yard, forming an amphitheater around the tragedy about to unfold.
A stoic audience to my worst nightmares.
Despite the artificial light, the hair on my arms rose, just like when I’d first arrived at the start of the season.
A predator is near.
Looming before me, the shed stood dark and foreboding, with the garage door flung wide open.
Beckoning.
It’s not him.It’s not him.
The shadow cast by the floodlight made it impossible to see inside from this distance. I crept across the yard, my heart racing and breath coming shallow and quick as I slowly placed one foot in front of the other.
I wished I could turn around and never look inside, but an overwhelming, impending sense of doom drove me forward. A breeze blew through the trees, rustling the pine needles and ruffling the sweat-drenched shirt stuck to my back.
I heard them before I saw them.
Creeeak. Creeeak.
Squinting, I stopped my approach just outside the door.
If I don’t go inside, it’s not real.
It’s not real.
My dad’s hugs were gentle, but firm. He had a warm laugh and kind eyes, and he couldn’t possibly be the man who’d donethis.
Four huge bear traps, coated in a flaky, red-brown substance, hung from the rafters, gently swaying in the wind.
Snap
