There, among the trees off the path, stood a moose as tall as my bedroom ceiling, balancing on skinny stilt legs. It didn’t have any antlers. It was mostly brown but its back was speckled with white spots. Its ears, perfectly erect, suddenly shifted back, and William shouted, “Run!”

I snatched Annabelle’s hand and bolted, dragging her through the trees, pushing branches and twigs from our path, nearly on William’s heels. Adrenaline coursed through my body, and I felt no pain as I pushed myself as fast as I could, my heartbeat drumming in my ears.

When we arrived at the clubhouse, William screamed, “Get up, quick.”

My body trembled as I lifted Annabelle, giving her bottom a shove. She began scurrying up the flat pieces of wood that William had nailed onto the tree, spaced perfectly for our little legs to make it all the way to the top. “Hurry!” I called before following, my limbs weakening as I clung to the bark.

Halfway up, my foot missed a step and my shoe slipped off. I turned, watching it fall and hit the ground with a thud. William was behind me and grabbed my foot, guiding it back onto the step. “Don’t look down. Go. Go.” He nudged me upward.

One at a time, we arrived on our perch. We huddled together as we tried to catch our breath, scanning the dangerous forest from up high. I placed my head on William’s shoulder, glancing at my shoeless foot.

He was our protector, until he couldn’t protect us anymore.

Chapter 59

Blinking my eyes open, I tried to sit up, but there was a pressure on my chest, gluing me to the mattress. My arms and legs were like blocks of concrete. I opened my mouth, but my tongue remained fixed to my bottom teeth and a quiet gurgle escaped. The more I struggled, the less my body responded.

I was paralyzed.

Unable to turn my head, I saw from the corner of my eye the flutter of a figure lingering in the doorway. It floated toward the bed. I wiggled as much as I could, using my shoulders to create momentum, beginning a slow, rocking motion from side to side.

The figure was now beside my bed. It was human-like, but lacked some of the features that make humans distinguishable. It was tall—so tall it almost reached the ceiling—with no nose, no mouth, grey holes for eyes, and arms that turned into hands that were attached to fingers, but it had no legs. I desperately tried to call for Jack, but only a whistle of air escaped. The weight on my chest was suffocating.

The figure raised one of its fingers, bringing it closer until it was resting on my stomach. My body was rocking harder and harder, a silent scream lodged in my throat. The figure pushed. I could feel the wet warmth of tears in the corners of my eyes as the figure pressed deeper and deeper and deeper. I knew what it wanted; it wanted to hurt my baby. I could feel my son’s pain inside me, begging for me to protect him.