Page 52

They chuckle quietly and their feet move softly down the wraparound porch.

Milo and I press our backs against the wall, clinging to it as the men lean down to look into the windows beside us. Milo nudges my arm and gently angles his cuffed hands toward me with begging eyes. I unlock the cuffs quickly and he slides them off.

“Thank you,” he whispers as he pockets them.

I nod, keeping calm and biting my inner cheek as I follow their sound around the house.

“Your car,” Milo says.

“The keys are in the kitchen,” I say.

“Where?”

“Hook by the fridge.”

He nods. “Get Charlotte, go outside,” he says. “Wait for me by the car.”

I study the shadows on his adrenaline-soaked face. “You need a weapon,” I say, reaching for my ankle holster.

“No, you take it. Go now while they’re around back. If I’m not out in one minute, run to a neighbor’s.”

There’s no time to dwell on it. His courage and bravery. It’s not what I expected from Milo Murray. I never saw it in him before now. I feel like I should have.

I push off the wall and head back to the foyer on slow, steady toes as Milo slinks toward the kitchen… right toward the men looking to break in and kill us in our sleep.

I shift my focus back to my daughter.

“Charlotte?” I whisper outside the closet. I turn the handle, opening it slowly just in case it squeaks.

My little girl looks up at me from the floor. She holds a phone in her hands, the gentle light giving just enough illumination so she doesn’t feel scared. It must be Milo’s.

I throw on a smile. “There you are!” I whisper, kneeling in front of her. “Such a good hiding spot. You’re so good at this game, honey.”

She stands up, her lips growing into a smile.

“We’re gonna play a new game now,” I say, taking the phone from her. “It’s called the Quiet Game, okay? First one to make a peep loses. Winner gets an extra cherry in their cupcake from Uncle Vin. Sound good?”

She grins. “Yes!”

“Shh…” I mime a key with my fingers and twist the phantom lock on my mouth. “Starting now.”

Charlotte does the same and presses her lips together, still clinging to that pink scope in her hands.

Milo’s shadow crosses into the kitchen down the hall. I pick up Charlotte and back up, laying my hand on the front door and focusing my hearing on the outside just in case they came back around.

A light shatter echoes in from the kitchen. Breaking glass. They’re coming in.

I twist the knob and back out onto the porch. It feels good to put a door between me and them, but I worry about Milo. Sixty seconds, he said. If he’s not out by then, run. I have no idea how much time has gone by already. Thirty seconds? Forty? The whole minute?

I walk into the rain, turning onto the lawn to limit the sound beneath my feet as I head toward the driveway. I pop up onto the tips of my toes when I reach the concrete and lower down to hide behind the trunk.

Come on, Milo.

I look at Charlotte’s wide, curious eyes and lay a finger over my lips to remind her to be quiet. Rain sprinkles along her nose and cheeks. I pull her hood over her head to block it and kiss her cheek.

Movement draws my senses to the far side of the house. My heart jolts into my throat as I fear the worst, but Milo sprints toward us around the porch. He carries my car keys in one hand and a large kitchen knife in the other.

“Go, go, go,” he says with a biting whisper. “I’ll drive.”