I pressed a palm to my chest, willing my hammering heart to calm.
A sound.
A scuffling noise echoed from downstairs.
I whirled around.
Emily stood at the base of the staircase, Rosie clutched tightly in her arms. Both of them stared up at me, their eyes wide, unblinking.
The hallway floor creaked behind me.
My head snapped back around.
Malik had moved.
The shadows still clung to him, but he was closer now, just a step or two.
Had I seen him move? Or was my mind playing tricks on me?
I wiped the dampness from my upper lip.Come on, Olivia. Get a grip.
“Well?” My voice rang through the silent corridor. “Are you going to show yourself to me, or should I turn around and leave?”
The thought of leaving after our grueling journey made my body sag, fatigue pulling at me like unseen hands.
Behind me, Rosie whimpered.
I spun toward her, heart pounding.
The floorboards groaned.
I whipped back around.
Malik had moved.
Closer. Too close.
A cold prickle ran down my spine.
What if this wasn’t Malik?
What if it was someone else—someone deranged, someone who only knew one thing—murder?
I swallowed hard, willing moisture into my dry mouth. My fingers twitched, curling and uncurling like restless bellows. I pressed my palms against my dirty deerskin dress, trying to steady myself, but my fingers betrayed me, drumming against my thighs. The anxiety was suffocating.
I shook my hands out. Then, I shook my entire body.
Malik was closer.
I hadn’t seen him move and hadn’t heard a single footstep.
It unnerved me.
I cast a glance over my shoulder.
Emily had crouched down, her arms wrapped protectively around Rosie. Both of them shook like autumn leaves barely clinging to a winter branch.
Rosie buried her face in Emily’s chest, too frightened to look.
