Page 51 of Into the Dark, We Go
I immediately understood what Nick was hinting at. Just like he had with Sammy’s secret spot, calling it a playground, he was now suggesting the playground mirrored someone else’s creation. And yet, I still couldn’t make sense of it.
Sam’s shoulders rose and fell with a dismissive shrug. I needed to figure out how to steer the conversation and keep him talking.
"I’m sorry I took the photo," I said. "Can I keep it for a little bit? I promise I’ll give it back once I find my friend. Is that okay?"
Sam kicked the carpet lightly. "I s’pose."
Nick moved to sit on the floor, legs folded. And just like that, the space felt more relaxed. He asked, "So, Sammy, you come here often? I mean, to this church?"
The boy bobbed his head. "Sometimes."
Nick read my face, and I knew he was thinking the same thing. If Sammy had been here regularly, the church staff would have known him. The Reverend must have known him.
I tried to build on the conversation. "You must have some friends here, huh?"
He shrugged again. "I guess so."
Nick pressed on. "And Reverend Carver, is he your friend too?"
The kid picked at his thumb nails. "He’s alright."
"But he doesn’t know about your secret place, does he?" Nick said. "It’s okay. We won’t tell him."
Sam shook his head and looked down, avoiding eye contact with Nick. But then he lifted his eyes to mine.
"You’re not in any trouble," I added, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
We had made contact with the boy, and now I had to tread carefully to avoid spooking him. He saw something, even if he didn’t fully understand it. If he was willing to share more, we could build on the details. Nick took the lead, and I didn’t mind. His tone and mannerisms were unexpectedly gentle, mirroring my own approach.
"So, can you tell us a little more about your secret place?" he asked. "It looks like a lot of work. Did you do it all by yourself, or did someone help you?"
Sam’s face brightened. "I did it myself."
"So, no one else knows about it?"
"Just you, I reckon." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
"And how long have you had it?"
The boy paused, thinking. "A year, maybe."
Nick studied Sammy, his expression a careful balance of patience and urgency. "And you came up with it all on your own?"
The boy’s face twitched, his expression sliding into something noncommittal. He needed more prompting. Nick, apparently, agreed.
"Or perhaps you saw someone else do something like that?"
Sammy’s lips tightened, his discomfort evident.
Nick leaned in, softening his tone. "You’re not in trouble. We just need your help to find our friends."
Sammy’s voice dropped to a whisper. "I don’t exactly know where it was."
I strained to hear, hanging on his every word. Nick’s brow furrowed, and his voice came out too upbeat, as if trying to keep things light. "Wherewhatwas?"
Sammy’s voice barely broke the silence. "It was like... a place in the woods. There were eyes on trees."
My heart hammered in my chest. All I wanted to do was scream, "Tell us more! Tell us about the trees with eyes!" But I bit my tongue, forcing out another smile instead.
