Page 89 of Liar Byrd
Soon, I’ll know.
Bang.
“What’s with the broken glass?” Makhi shouts from downstairs.
The figure in front of me freezes.
I’m red in the face, barely even breathing at all, when the man straightens and hurries out of my room.
I count down from sixty seconds. When I hear nothing else, I slide out from under the bed and tiptoe over to the door. I stick the very tip of my nose out as I check the coast is clear.
Nothing.
I can breathe.
And I can run.
I’m halfway down the hallway when I remember my bag. I can’t leave it behind when it’s all I have.
My mind keeps trying to show me Vonn and Nash’s bodies outside in the rain, and my eyes prick with tears. I’ll check outside, make sure they’re okay, and if they are, then I’ll run.
If they’re not…
I wipe away a tear as it falls. If they’re not okay, then I don’t know what I’ll do.
Snatching my white tote from the floor, I hurry out of my room and down the stairs, listening hard in case Jeremiah’s acolytes have entered the house.
It’s silent.
Everywhere is quiet.
I tiptoe down the last of the stairs.
From the entryway, I spot the shattered patio glass window in the music room and the water dripping inside.
There’s no sign of anyone, and I’m too afraid to call out for Nance in case the wrong person hears me.
I look for boot prints, but I find none. Whoever broke that glass didn’t come inside—at least, not through that door. The front door is wide open, but Nash said he was going to speak to the man looking for his wife, so he might have been the one to leave it that way.
I tiptoe to the front door, gripping the tote tightly, with no memory of what I did with Vonn’s cell phone because it’s no longer in my hand. The door on my left swings open, and I scream, dropping my tote as I back up.
Nash’s scowl smooths out. “What are you doing creeping around?”
“Something’s wrong.”
His scowl returns, and he glances at the gaping front door. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything.”
As he moves toward me, his gaze dips, and his expression changes.
I start to tell him about Jeremiah. “There was someone here. Looking for me. And I… I know I should have said something before, but I have to leave. It’s not safe for…”
Makhi isn’t listening.
He’s still looking down, and I don’t understand why until I track his gaze.
My bag is open. The sweatpants he let me borrow spilled out when I dropped it. So did the thick white envelope that I was sure I had shoved to the bottom of the bag to keep it safe. But it's not money that has fallen out.
