I called Mom ten more times, back-to-back. I texted her over and over. Each time she didn’t answer, my chest grew tighter, and time seemed to slow to a crawl. I couldn’t allow my mind to wander to the negative possibilities. Maybe she was in the shower. Maybe she was in another room where she couldn’t hear her phone. I told myself I was overreacting, but Karter’s message replayed in my mind.

You should go back to Brooklyn. Right now. It’s not safe for you here.

We pulled into the driveway and I jumped out before the car came to a full stop. My ankle throbbed as I raced inside.

“Mom!”

The silence that met me was louder than the rush of blood in my ears as my heart leaped into a furious rhythm. I sprinted up the stairs, ignoring the pain in my leg, and checked her room, the guest rooms, then ran back downstairs. An all-consuming sense of dread overtook me.

I ran into the apothecary. “Mom!”

I fumbled with my phone as I tried to text Mo again. I stopped. There, on the counter, was a sheet of paper with four words scribbled on it.

Look out the window

I ran to the window and pushed it open. My mom stood at the tree line and Mrs. Redmond stood behind her.

I dropped my phone and sprinted outside. All around me, the grass twisted violently, angrily. As I cut across the rear lawn and approached Mrs. Redmond, Mom flinched. I stopped in my tracks. Mrs. Redmond held a knife to my mom’s throat.

Her hair was wild, her one good eye wide. “One more step and I will kill her.”

“Please don’t hurt her,” I pleaded. I took another step forward.

Mrs. Redmond pushed the knife against Mom’s throat. “Are you stupid?”

“What are you doing? I know about the house and the paperwork and—”

“You don’t know anything!” she screamed. “I don’t have time for this! I’ve been waiting too long already!” She gestured toward the curtain of vines. “Open it. Take us to the garden, and if you try anything, if a single blade of grass moves in my direction, I’ll kill her. Understand?”

I locked eyes with my mother. “Stay on the path and don’t touch anything when we get to the garden.”

“Quiet!” Mrs. Redmond shouted. Her hand was steady on the knife’s handle. She would do exactly what she’d threatened without a second thought.