Page 226 of Chandelier Sin
“Can you show me the house itself,” she said. “From the ground.”
Sliding his finger across his phone, Shay glided the image from satellite to land level and showed it to her.
Eve slapped her hand over her mouth.
I watched her carefully.
Fear showed in her eyes. “It’s the same home I grew up in.”
“Why would he bring you back there?” My gut twisted.
“Why would he want to take Eloise there?” she asked, her voice sounding faint.
My throat tightened as a stream of possibilities flooded my imagination—none of them good.
Eve appeared unsteady on her feet. “He knows they were cruel to me there; knows I hated that place. He might be threatening to leave her there, like the way I was abandoned. I have to go to her. And I have to go now.”
It was arranged—someone from the inside would unlock the gate. An employee had been “gotten to” and paid well for taking the risk.
This was how it was done, or so I was told.
I couldn’t think of a better person than Atticus to accompany me on this mission. As we moved closer, my chest tightened with anticipation.
Atticus agreed that Aemon might suspect we were coming. Maybe me leaving Pendulum and having no contact with him had motivated him to fulfill his threat.
They wanted me to be prepared for anything.
But what Aemon couldn’t know was that I had Atticus and his remarkable friends to help me.
The charismatic Shay, with his retired military vet charm, was impressively confident and compellingly kind, agreeing to help when he hardly knew me. These were the friendships I’d yearned for.
Shay and his men waited in a rented jeep a little way down thestreet, so as not to be seen if there were security cameras. They were our backup should we need it.
I knew walking out of there with my daughter wasn’t going to be easy.
Being back in this place was something I’d never envisioned. This old colonial mansion was a haunting testament to my stolen childhood.
Together, Atticus and I walked the full length of the driveway, approaching the door with caution.
Our own home was always low key in appearance when it came to security and this place was no different.
Night seemed darker here, and unfamiliar, making us feel uneasy. There were fewer streetlights, which helped give this neighborhood a sinister feel.
How many times had I as a young girl skipped around those vast pillars at the front of the house, searching for something good in a stressful setting. The illusion of happiness had never come.
I’d learned to disappear inside my mind time and time again, as friends would come and go. One by one, the other children were adopted.
But never me.
I’d remained ignorant of the world that lay beyond these towering walls.
Now, as an adult, I saw this imposing façade as less of a threat. It looked weathered a little but had still been cared for over time. The trees within the walls of the great house bore the scars of countless seasons.
Each corner of the front and rear lawns told the story of the girls who’d lived on the property—those of us who’d ran and played and climbed the tall trees. I’d carved my name into one of them. If anyone ever doubted my presence, I could point to the farthest and tallest tree and prove I’d cut “Eve” into the bark—as though by inscribing my name I couldn’t ever disappear.
My heart dropped at the thought Eloise was inside.
All this time I’d waited to see her, and I was minutes away from lifting her into my arms, hugging her tight and then carrying her to safety—to a new life, one where she’d never be scared or lonely again.
