The house wasn’t as far as she thought. Maybe an eighth of a mile from the fence to a clearing where she could see it, and the scene at the front door.

Watkins knocking. His car was parked in the driveway.

She stopped dead in her tracks as she heard him call out—to Reyes.

Reyes was the caretaker of this place. Reyes managed the security cameras at the Gas n’ Go. Reyes was using the gas and electric, living here.

The boarded window with the metal bars holding it in place.

Her mother would know the truth and would tell them Watkins wasn’t involved. Edith never saw her. Maybe there wasn’t even a black truck.

Unless—no—the reward money.

It was one million if they found her alive. But five hundred thousand if they just found her.

That was it. She was already dead. Or about to be.

And now Watkins—not knowing what might be behind that door.

She started to run, calling out to him—“Chief!”

The door opened just as his name left her mouth. There were no more words. Just one shot. And Watkins, hand to his chest, stumbling backward until he reached the steps. Falling, crumbling down to the gravel, where he lay still.

Chapter Forty-nine

Day eighteen

Alice and I watch as Mick stands on the other side of the door. We watch as he draws his gun and steadies himself. He is still weak.

I turn Alice to face me, pull her from the grate. Fear blankets my face. I know what is about to happen.

And I think—I have done it. I have killed another child. The hatred I thought I felt for her was not real. It was anger and frustration. But she is a child. She is a victim of this house and whatever has happened here these past nine years.

“Alice,” I say. “This was my fault and I will tell him that. I will save you,” I promise. I lie. He will surely kill us both.

Her face doesn’t change as I say these words. It is another new face. It is determined.

Alice holds my eyes as she reaches in her pocket. And slowly, very slowly—she pulls out the key. I fold my hand around hers and I gently take the key and turn the lock.

As we push the grate open and walk out into the hallway, to our freedom, we hear the shot.

Chapter Fifty

Day eighteen

Reyes saw Nic, heard her call out to Watkins.

Now he called after her as she ran away, back into the woods, back toward the inn.

She ran the way she’d come, watching the ground, her feet taking small, quick steps on patches that were steady. She weaved through the trees, dodging the branches.

Then another shot and a pop against a trunk not five feet from her.

He called out again.

“Stop!”

And then—

“I have your mother!”