Page 8 of In the Shadows

“No!” Arthur shouted, startling her so much that she dropped

the bag. “I’m sorry. It’s heavy, is all,” he added, gentle guilt filling

him. “You don’t have to do anything for me.”

“I don’t mind,” she assured him, with a genuine friendliness

that he was deeply unused to.

For a moment Arthur hated them, hated that they had never

known evil, had never had to hide.

But they’ve known loss, he reminded himself.

Mr. Johnson had left him, but he’d left his family, too. Alone

and unprotected in this deadly town.

He watched as Cora carefully picked up his case. Minnie

looked on, so innocent despite her attempt to look mischievous.

They have no idea.

And they have no one to protect them.

These words came to him in his own voice . . . but he could

hear Mr. Johnson’s safe haven of a voice underneath.

Protect them.

But that would mean staying.

For as long as it took.

That night, as the house lay sleeping, he slipped outside and into

the trees surrounding the cheerful yellow boardinghouse, color

leeched to a pale glow in the moonlight. Under the cover of dark-

ness, he dug a hole deep enough for a body, then dropped his case

inside.

He spit on it, wishing he could burn it, wishing he didn’t fear

what it held so much. He had promised his mother he would never

look inside, but it was all he had left of his own father.

Into the ground with it, then — the same place the cursed

items had put all those whose lives they’d tainted.

London

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