“Oh, okay. But if you’re not here in twenty, your father is going to come look for you.”
I roll my eyes. “Sure.”
I’m about to say bye and hang up when she says, “Is everything okay? This isn’t like you. Especially not two times in under a week.”
She’s right. I’m usually really good about keeping them in the loop, letting them know where I am at all times. I don’t think I’ve ignored my phone on purpose, but I’m just getting so tired of living this way. Maybe I’m subconsciously pushing back.
I sigh. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m okay. The whole way home is lit. I’ll be fine.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds before saying, “Okay, Haven. I just hope you know how much your dad and I love you. I know we can be overbearing at times, but we just want to keep you safe. If we lost you too?—”
Her words cut off sharply as she’s suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. Just like she is any time she thinks about my sister . . . and how they lost her.
My chest squeezes and I’m swamped with guilt. Are my parents really asking that much of me?
No.
“I know, Mom. And I love you too. I’ll be home soon. Promise.”
After saying goodbye and hanging up, I shove the last few things back in my bag. Slinging it over my shoulder, I wind my way through the library, looking for the rear exit. Almost ten minutes later, I find the one door not locked. Apparently, there are four back exits, and I checked three locked ones before I finally discovered the right one.
Annoyed at how much time that wasted, I push through the door and into the chilly night air. I go to text my mom that I’m just leaving now so she doesn’t worry when I’m not home in ten minutes, only to find that my battery has run out.
Tilting my head skyward, I groan. What more can go wrong?
As soon as I think it, a shiver of unease runs through me. I wish I hadn’t thought that, because now I feel jinxed.
I glance around, not seeing another person anywhere. I can’t decide if that’s comforting or the opposite.
Taking a quick second, I consider my options. If I head the regular way, the one lit with streetlights, I’m not going to get home before my parents freak out. Especially when they call and it goes directly to voicemail because my phone’s dead. There’s a shortcut that will cut the time in half, but it’s through a wooded area.
My mom’s worried voice filters through my mind. I don’t want to cause her any more stress tonight. If I could have texted them, I’d definitely take the longer, well-lit route, but since I can’t . . .
I take off in the direction of the trees at a brisk pace. The temperature has to have dropped at least thirty degrees since I sat on the lawn with Kendra. Goose bumps break out on my exposed arms, and I rub them as I walk-jog toward the woods, cursing myself for not bringing a jacket.
Plunging into the trees, I tell myself I’m not being stupid, but that I’m being a good daughter. I’m only a few minutes’ walk from home now, and even though it’s near pitch-black, I’ll see a streetlight from my neighborhood peeking through the trees at any moment. Not that I need it. My eyesight in the dark is far better than any human’s, so I don’t need the light to guide my way.
Something else that’s heightened besides my eyesight is my hearing, so when a branch snaps in the stillness, it’s as loud as a warning shot.
I freeze, cocking my head toward the noise. As my blood starts to pump faster, I try to convince myself it was only an animal. But it was unmistakably the snap of a twig beneath someone’s foot.
Carefully, I scan my surroundings, taking note of every shape and shadow. Breathing shallowly, I stretch my hearing, trying to pick up on any other out-of-the-ordinary noises, but after a minute I shake my head and let out a nervous laugh.
I must be hearing things.
When I take my first step, a dark shape bursts out from behind a tree and tackles me to the ground.
I hit hard, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. My bag goes skidding into the leaves.
It takes a second for reality to register as I gasp for breath, and then fear crashes over me, freezing me in place.
A large man pushes off me and rises, looming over me as I break through my paralysis and scramble to my feet. Before I can get my footing, he grabs a handful of hair and wrenches my head back.
I try to scream, but I’m still recovering from the blow, unable to draw enough air to make more than a soundless gasp.
The man pulls me backward by my hair. It’s excruciating, like my scalp is on fire, but the sharp pain clears my mind, and my self-defense training finally kicks in.
As he drags me across the leaf-strewn ground, I reach up and clamp one hand around his wrist to ease the pull, then grab his pinky with the other. Without giving myself time to chicken out, I jerk his pinky back, feeling the bone snap.
