Page 29 of Shadows of You

I slid open the glass balcony door and stepped outside, then lowered myself into an Adirondack chair and stared at the farm in the distance. I’d never seen her close-up, not until the other night. But I’d seen that flash of red in the breeze as the woman moved to the barn, a child bounding at her side.

I’d made up a million and one stories as I saw them let animals out and call them in. But everything looked different to me now that I knew who lived there. I could no longer make up stories about the woman and her child. They were too real.

And something told me they were in danger.

9

ASPEN

The stars sparkled overhead.They should’ve been a comfort. Autumn and I had always loved the stars. It didn’t matter if we were living in a car or a shelter or a studio apartment, the stars were our one constant while apart from each other.

I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel and looked down at my phone.

Me

I’m here. Do you need help with your stuff?

I’d sent it four minutes ago. I told myself I’d give her five and then go in.

John was at a business dinner, but he could come home at any time, and I wanted Autumn and my niece out of here first. My phone clicked over to five minutes to seven. My stomach cramped.

God, I hoped she hadn’t changed her mind. All she’d ever wanted was a family. To create the environment we’d never had growing up. It made it that much harder for her to walk away. Even if it was the only thing she could do to keep her and her daughter safe.

I slid out of my car and headed up the front steps. This McMansion in the suburbs was never something I’d pictured Autumn in. She had too much heart and soul. She was more the type for an old farmhouse with a wraparound porch and notches in a wood post where she’d measure her growing kids.

But John had wantedbig. He’d said they needed to keep up appearances, which meant a pristine home without a single thing out of place. I gritted my teeth at the memory as I searched my key ring for the pink one Autumn had given me. Sliding it into the lock, I opened the door.

“Autumn?” I called.

A light was on down the hall, but everything else was dark. Too dark. Shadows danced along the walls. My heart hammered in my chest.

“Autumn?” I tried again. “Where are you?”

I heard nothing but the drip of a faucet somewhere down the hall. I moved toward the faint light in the direction of the kitchen.

A soft cry sounded from upstairs. Lucy.

I turned, heading quickly up the stairs, and moved on autopilot toward my niece’s room. The door was open, the faint glow of a nightlight shining through.

As I stepped inside, I pulled up short. A figure sat in the rocker. Autumn had hemmed and hawed over what color she’d wanted for the nursery, changing her mind at least a dozen times before settling on a pale purple. But the person in the chair now was too big to be my sister.

And they were completely ignoring the now-wailing baby in the crib as a faint breeze ruffled the gauzy curtains.

“Hello, Tara. I didn’t hear the bell.”

The voice froze me to the spot. It was so calm yet admonishing. The familiar line John so often walked.

“What’s wrong with Lucy?” I croaked, my palms sweating.

He didn’t turn to look at me, just fixed his gaze on a spot over the crib. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

My throat constricted, tightening to the point of pain. “Where’s Autumn?”

I could barely get the words out as blood roared in my ears.

John chuckled, the sound light and airy. “I’ve given everything for my family. Worked myself to the bone to provide a good life.” He tapped a finger on the arm of the rocker. “And this is how they want to repay me?”

“Where is she?” Hot tears filled my eyes.

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