Page 103 of Finders Keepers

Sophie needs me.

Sophie.

Oh god, Sophie.

I crawl across the kitchen floor, staying low. My heart pounds so hard I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. I reach up and flick off the kitchen light and then the living room lamp, plunging the room into darkness. What had felt cozy moments ago now feels suffocating.

My hands shake so badly I can barely grip the phone as I army-crawl down the hallway to our room. My breath comes in short gasps that I struggle to control.

I have to stay quiet.

I have to stay low.

The door is cracked open just like I left it. I peer inside, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. The nightlight casts a soft glow across the room and I see her peaceful face. Her chest rises and falls steadily, one arm wrapped around Mr. Hoppy. The curtains are drawn tight, thank God I always close them at sunset. A habit born from paranoia that now seems like divine intervention.

I back away, still crawling, until I reach the bathroom. I slip inside and shut the door before collapsing against it. The sobs I’ve been holding back tear loose, silent but violent enough to make my whole body convulse. I stuff my fist against my mouth to muffle the sound.

He found us. Oh God, he found us.

My vision blurs as tears stream down my face. I can’t breathe. Can’t think. The walls are closing in and the darkness is suffocating me and I’m going to pass out here on this bathroom floor while he’s out there watching and Sophie is sleeping and-

My phone.

With trembling fingers I bring it up to my face. The screen illuminates the small space, making me flinch. I dim it quickly before pulling up my contacts. Gavin’s name swims before my tear-filled eyes. I hit call.

One ring. Two rings. Three-

“Hello?” His voice is thick with sleep.

I open my mouth but no sound comes out. Just ragged breathing that I can’t control.

“Bailey?” He sounds more alert now. “Bailey, what’s wrong?”

A sob escapes before I can stop it.

“Bailey, talk to me. Are you hurt? Is Sophie okay?”

“He-” My voice breaks. I swallow hard. “He was here. Matt was here.”

“What?” I hear the sound of rustling fabric. “Where are you?”

“In—in the bathroom. Sophie’s asleep. I found—there was a message. On the kitchen window.” Another sob rips through me. “He can see us, Gavin. He wrote that he can see us.”

“I’m coming. Right now. Stay inside. I’m calling the sheriff on my work cell. Do you want me to stay on the line?”

“Please.” It comes out as a whisper.

“I’m already in my truck. Ten minutes, Bailey. Just ten minutes. Keep talking to me.”

I press my forehead against my knees, trying to make myself smaller. “What if he’s still out there?”

“The sheriff is five minutes out. They’ll check the property.” The sound of his engine roaring to life punctuates his words. “Did you see anyone? Hear anything?”

“No. I was reading and then I went to change the water in the flowers you gave me and-” My voice cracks again. “It was just there. Written on the window. With a drawing of a rifle scope.”

“What flowers?” His voice turns sharp.

And my blood runs cold. “The—the wildflowers. The ones you left in my car the other day.” Even as I say the words, something shifts in my mind, a horrible realization trying to surface.

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