Chapter 3 - The Lies We Sleep Next To
We burst out of the emergency exit into the freezing night air,
the rain coming down in sharp,
stinging sheets.
The hospital parking lot was a sea of flashing red and blue lights,
patrol cars screeching to a halt near the main entrance.
"This way," Claire whispered fiercely,
pulling us into the deep shadows cast by a row of dense,
overgrown bushes lining the perimeter.
We crawled through the wet dirt,
the mud soaking through my thin hospital gown,
the cold biting into my bare skin.
Every time a police radio squawked,
every time a heavy beam from a flashlight swept across the asphalt,
my heart hammered wildly against my ribs.
I watched through the branches as Chief Harrison himself stepped out of his cruiser,
his face grim,
his hand resting casually on his holstered weapon.
He was talking to David,
nodding solemnly,
patting my husband on the back like a grieving friend.
They were hunting me,
painting me as a fugitive,
a crazy woman who had kidnapped her own daughter.
"My car is parked three blocks away," Claire murmured,
her lips close to my ear,
"We have to move while they are distracted searching the building."
We slipped through the fence,
navigating the dark,
winding alleys of the suburban neighborhood.
My bare feet bled,
sliced by broken glass and sharp gravel,
but I forced myself to keep moving,
driven by the primal need to protect my child.
When we finally reached Claire’s nondescript sedan,
I collapsed into the backseat,
pulling Mia onto my lap,
wrapping her in a thick woolen blanket Claire kept in the trunk.
Claire started the engine,
leaving the headlights off until we were miles away from the hospital,
merging onto the desolate midnight highway.
The heater blasted warm air,
but I couldn't stop shivering,
the shock of the night finally catching up to my exhausted body.
"Where are we going?" I asked,
my voice a hollow rasp,
barely recognizable to my own ears.
"A safe house," Claire replied,
her eyes glued to the rearview mirror,
constantly scanning for headlights,
"A cabin up in the mountains,
owned by a former client,
it is completely off the grid,
no cell service,
no paper trail,
they will not find us there."
I looked down at Mia,
who had finally fallen into a restless,
exhausted sleep against my chest.
I gently stroked her damp hair,
a solitary tear slipping down my cheek,
landing softly on her forehead.
"He was going to kill me, Claire," I whispered,
the reality of the words settling over me like a heavy,
suffocating shroud.
"He planned it,
he discussed it like a business transaction,
my life,
reduced to an insurance payout."
"He is a sociopath, Sarah," Claire said,
her voice thick with unshed tears,
"I always knew something was wrong with him,
the way he isolated you,
the way he controlled your finances,
but I never imagined this level of darkness,
this calculated evil."
I closed my eyes,
flashes of my marriage playing like a horror movie behind my eyelids.
The sudden mood swings,
the unexplainable bruises,
the nights I woke up to find him standing over the bed,
just staring at me with hollow,
empty eyes.
I had made excuses for seven years,
believing his lies,
protecting his reputation,
sacrificing my own soul to keep the peace.
But the peace was a lie,
a carefully constructed illusion,
built on a foundation of hidden graves and blood money.
"Evelyn," I murmured,
the name tasting like ash in my mouth,
"He murdered Evelyn, Claire."
"I know," Claire replied,
her grip tightening on the steering wheel,
"And tomorrow,
when we are safe,
we are going to tear his entire life apart,
May you like
piece by piece,
until he begs for mercy."
