She wasn’t ready to stop moving yet. Her pace lengthened, letting the downward momentum carry her faster than might have been safe. Her sprained ankle ached with each step. Tiny rocks dug into her feet. She still didn’t slow. There was an overwhelming, horrific sense that, if she stopped moving, the hill would open up its massive jaws and swallow her like a morsel.
A quiet crunch sounded on the dirt path behind her. Margot flinched, glancing back, but it was only Kant. He followed at a distance, his head raised to watch the sky instead of her.
Leave me alone. She didn’t want them to talk to her any longer. She didn’t want to hear explanations or commiserations, or promises that she could get through this if she just held on a little longer.
She wanted to be gone. Away from the hill. Forever.
Margot broke into a sprint as she passed behind the store. Long grass slashed across her shins like tiny whips. The building’s windows were dark. Nora and Ray hadn’t yet returned.
Her lungs burned. Every muscle in her body ached, a slow, grinding soreness that would take days to fade. But the closer she drew to the road, the lighter her chest felt. It was freedom. It was safety. It promised everything she wanted, everything she needed.
She burst out between the wooden posts marking the drive’s entrance. The hard flecks of road gravel bit into her soles.
A horn blared. Impossibly loud, deafening, and Margot staggered as the car she hadn’t seen passed just inches behind her.
She fell to her knees among the long grass and vines on the road’s other side. The car, a black sedan, swerved back into its lane and continued on its route. Even with Margot looking how she did—barefoot, streaked in dried blood—the driver didn’t stop.
No one questioned what happened on Gallows Hill.
She sagged onto her side, legs spread out awkwardly, the heavy cast resting in the dirt. Her face was wet, but she didn’t remember crying. A slow, shaking smile formed as she stared at the fence line opposite.
I’m out. Past the boundary. And I’m not going back.
I don’t care if there are symptoms. I’ll take pain tablets. A headache can’t last forever.
I am not going back.
She closed her eyes, head tilted back, to feel the sun on her face. It seemed different outside the hill. Cleaner. Warmer. She filled her aching lungs as fresh tears trailed down to her chin where they hung for a second before dripping off.
When she opened her eyes, she saw she had company. Kant had reached the fence. He leaned on the highest bar, broad arms folded over it, as he watched her. Unlike Margot, he stayed inside the boundary.