At least I never killed anyone, Ben whispers.
The second thing Sarah grabs is her backpack. She meets Elijah in the hallway. He holds a full duffel bag, and she wonders if, like herself, he’s had that bag packed for months in case he ever needs to run.
You like to run, don’t you, Ben whispers.
The staircase whines one last protest as they run down the steps. But Sarah has nothing to fear from the noise now. In the end, Sweetside Manor is only a house, not a living thing, and in time it’ll crumble into dust like the bones buried in the woods.
Elijah opens the front door. “Let’s go.”
Sarah nods grimly. Elijah’s not the brother she’d imagined running away with, but Caleb isn’t who she thought he was.No one is ever who you think they are,Ben whispers.Not even yourself.
They hurry down the driveway, boots scraping against salt and gravel and half-melted ice. Sarah’s stomach twists as she realizes the fresh salt under their feet could be shoveled from Ben’s resting place.
“Shit,” Elijah says.
It’s the first time she’s ever heard him swear.
A red pickup truck rumbles up the road from the motel to the driveway. The horn honks once, twice, the sound ripping through her tightening chest. Elijah grabs her hand. “Come on.”
He half-drags her past the truck. Caleb’s eyebrows draw together from his seat high up in the cab. The truck screeches to a halt, and the driver-side door swings open.
“Go!” Elijah says.
“Sarah!” Caleb calls out. “What are you doing?”
Elijah’s hand squeezes her clammy one. “Don’t answer him. Keep heading for the motel.”
Sarah runs, her body nothing but swinging arms and legs and stabbing breaths. The truck’s motor switches off, and Caleb launches himself out of the driver’s seat. “Sarah!” he yells.
“Run!” Elijah says, releasing her hand and picking up his heels.
Sarah tries to run faster, but she flails in the too-large boots. Her heart throbs in her throat, and she makes the mistake of glancing back. Caleb sprints toward her, the storm in his eyes as he closes the distance with his powerful legs. He never did have to think about how much space he takes up.
Her mouth opens, ready to scream, anticipating those large, heavy hands around her neck.
He pushes past her and punches Elijah in the face.
Elijah grunts and falls backward onto the snow, dropping the duffel bag. Blood streams from both nostrils.
“Elijah!” Sarah rushes over to him. The key, the precious car key. Is he still holding it?
Elijah’s fingers fall open, revealing the black fob.
“Sarah, get away from him!” Caleb roars.
Sarah snatches at the fob, but Elijah’s fingers close like a trap. “Help me stand,” he hisses.
She glances up. Caleb advances.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and she stomps on his hand.
To give love and then take it away, that is the only way to stay on top. Elijah yelps and his hand springs open again. Sarah snatches the key and jams it into her pocket.
Elijah spits out a mouthful of blood, scarlet on the white snow. Sarah expects him to say,What did I do wrong? How can we go back to where we were?
Instead he starts to laugh, like he did the day Ben hit him. His shoulders shake as he rocks on the snow. “How does it feel? How does it feel to hurt me? Do you feel alive?”
She can’t tell if he’s talking to her or Caleb.
