He’s not going to find me dead, she said to herself, as her eyes welled.

She stared at him a moment longer as she tried to find the energy to keep going, but just before taking another step, she could swear she saw movement. It was slight, and at first she couldn’t tell if it was her mind playing tricks on her, but then she watched in horror as he slowly reached his large hand toward his injured head.

Her heart began to pound as she quickly turned around, facing the edge of the woods. The sun peeked through a break in the trees; she was almost there.

Dizzy, she focused on the ground, meeting small goals of movement as she limped across the forest floor. But with each step, she felt more detached from her body. Her wound was serious; she knew it. After all, he had shot her with an arrow. It was a reality she still couldn’t quite grapple.

She pushed off of each tree, letting the forest guide her, until she reached the edge. She could see a lawn—a house—and hope began to wash over her. A car was in the driveway. Someone was home.

She stumbled across the lawn toward the porch, hope flooding her body. Just as she reached the steps she heard something. The sound of movement behind her—the slap of a bow.

Something cut the air—and suddenly, she felt it. Something in her back—another arrow.

A spasm of pain shot up her body as she struggled to find her breath. But she couldn’t dare look back, or even scream. She had little energy left and she knew she needed every bit of it as she fell to her knees and proceeded to pull herself up the porch stairs.

She wanted to cry, but no tears could fill her eyes. Her body was too dehydrated from her hike and loss of blood. She pulled herself up onto the porch and, with every ounce of energy she had left, reached her arm out in front of her and pounded her fist into the base of the door.

Seconds later she heard hurried footsteps as the door in front of her began to open.

But she knew it was too late.

She already felt cold, and as the door opened, she envisioned her father. He would check in with her soon, but her phone would only ring.

She would never hear his voice again.

Chapter One

The door in front of her vibrated with each thump of struggle and her mother screamed out in pain. Tara was in the closet, hiding, just as her mother would’ve told her to do.

“Please don’t!” her mother yelled.

Tara hadn’t seen who it was, but she only knew of one person who could make her mother scream with such desperation—her father.

She reached for the doorknob. She had to do something. He was going to kill her.

But, just then, a shrilling shriek filled the air.

Tara Mills jolted upright at the buzzing of her alarm, and she quickly turned it off.