Page 41 of The Intruder

He rubs the back of his neck. “You did good.”

I can’t hold back my smile. “Thank you.”

I can’t believe I did it. I can’t believe Anton taught me how to pick locks. I have learned a lot of things in my life, including the difference between sedimentary and igneous rocks, but this is the first thing I have ever learned that I am certain will be extremely useful. Now, I know how to free myself.

30

NOW

CASEY

It’s a map.

Eleanor is carrying a handwritten map. The blue scribble has a childlike quality to it, which makes me think that she drew the map herself. She drew the directions and wrote in the names of the roads. She painstakingly created this all by herself.

And she has made a star at the top of the map, at what appears to be her final destination.

This house.

Eleanor is carrying a map leading right to me. She didn’t just randomly wander here from the road. She followed the directions on the map until she arrived in my yard, dripping with blood and clutching a knife in her right hand.

Except…why?

“Casey?”

It’s Eleanor’s voice, coming from the bathroom. I quickly stuff the map into my pocket, hoping she doesn’t notice that I have it. She emerges from the bathroom, her hands finally free of the knife.

“Do you have an extra toothbrush?” she asks.

I’ll give you an extra toothbrush if you don’t kill me in my sleep tonight, I want to tell her.

But before I can say anything, my thoughts are interrupted by a scraping noise outside the house. Eleanor notices it too, and she looks alarmed. “What is that?”

I flash a confident smile that belies the dread in the pit of my stomach. There have been a lot of ominous sounds coming from outside since the storm started, but none of them have seemed quite as immediate as that scraping sound. It sounds like the outside is clawing its way in.

I grab the flashlight off the coffee table. Eleanor follows me to the front door, which I crack open. It’s still extremely windy, and I’m scared that if I let go of the doorknob, the door will blow away. I squint into the night, shining my flashlight around the yard. I stop when I get to the tree by my house.

The tree is practically out of the ground. It’s tilted heavily to one side, and that side happens to be in the direction of the house. And with each gust of wind, it tilts a little bit more.

Eleanor is staring at the tree, her eyes huge. “Is that tree going to fall, Casey?”

“I’m sure it won’t,” I lie. “It will be fine.”

She shivers and hugs her skinny chest. “Do you infinity promise?”

I can’t infinity promise that the tree won’t fall. Because I’ve never broken one of those promises, and I think there’s a decent chance the tree might fall tonight.

“Look,” I say, “I won’t lie to you. The wind is really strong tonight, and the tree might blow over.”

Eleanor’s face falls, which almost makes me wish I just lied about it. She’s really just a little girl, and all she wants is my reassurance.

“But,” I add, “I’m going to keep a close eye on it through the window. If it really looks like it’s going to fall, I’ll wake you up. But I bet it won’t.”

“You’re going to watch it?” she asks in a tiny voice.

“I will.”

“And what if it does fall?”