“Idiots,” he mutters under his breath. His gaze flicks toward the clock, then he exhales sharply and grabs his gun from the table.
“I need to do my rounds,” he says, loud enough for his men outside to hear. “Stay put, girls. Be good for your mother.”
He ruffles Emma’s hair like she’s a pet and strides toward the door, pausing just before stepping out. His eyes meet mine, smug and cold. “Try anything stupid, and you’ll regret it.”
The door clicks shut behind him. The second I hear his boots crunching on the gravel outside, my muscles unlock.
My eyes dart to the counter, searching.
There.
Jason’s backup phone sits near the edge, carelessly left behind, as if he’s so convinced of his control that he doesn’t even bother to secure it. My pulse pounds in my ears as I move, every sound in the cabin suddenly magnified. The rustle of Ella shifting in her chair, the scrape of the wooden floor under my socked feet, the distant murmur of Jason’s voice as he speaks to his men.
I grab the phone, heart hammering, and tuck it into my sleeve.
Ella watches me, eyes wide but understanding. She reaches for her spoon, knocking over her glass on purpose. Water spills across the table, a perfect distraction. Emma lets out a little yelp, jumping up from her seat.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I murmur, moving to clean it, but my mind is already racing.
I have one shot at this.
It has to be tonight.
The fog clings to the trees, thick and muffling, wrapping around the cabin like a ghost. It’s now or never.
I slip out of bed, careful not to let the old mattress groan under my weight. Jason’s slow, even breaths fill the silence. I watch him for a moment, making sure he’s deep in sleep, his arm draped over his chest, gun within reach on the nightstand. My stomach clenches. If he so much as shifts before we’re out that door, this will all be over.
Padding toward the girls’ room, I push open the door and crouch by the bed, pressing a finger to my lips. Emma stirs first, her lashes fluttering as her sleepy eyes meet mine. She doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t make a sound. She just nods.
Ella is already slipping on her shoes by the time I nudge her. The girls understand without words, their little hands moving quickly, efficiently. Lessons learned in silence, from men who knew how to survive.
The floorboards creak under my weight. I swallow hard. Every sound feels too loud. My pulse thunders in my ears as I inch toward the front door, my hand closing around the knob. I exhale slowly, testing the latch.
The door groans.
I freeze.
Jason shifts in the bedroom, and my breath catches in my throat. The twins stand still behind me, barely breathing. Then Emma, quick as lightning, drops her stuffed bear to the floor with a softthump.
The noise is just enough to cover the door’s whisper of movement as I ease it open, inch by painstaking inch. Ella bends down, retrieving the bear like it’s the most important mission of her life, careful, slow, deliberate. Misdirection, just as Asher taught her.
We step outside into the mist. The damp air clings to my skin, and my heart is pounding so loud, I’m afraid someone will hear it. I guide the girls toward the tree line, every step calculated. The cabin is a shadow behind us, the woods stretching out like a silent invitation.
We’re almost there.
Then—
A shout.
“Mia!”
Jason’s voice rips through the quiet like a gunshot.
I grab the twins’ hands andrun.
The fog swallows us, tree branches scraping against my skin as we stumble deeper into the forest. I don’t know where we’re going, only that we have togo. Behind us, heavy footsteps pound against the ground.
Jason is coming.
