Chapter 8: The Safehouse in the Pines
Deep in the sprawling, dense pine forests that bordered the northern edge of the county, an old, rotting hunting cabin sat in absolute darkness. Inside, Lilith worked by the dim beam of a single penlight.
She had abandoned the luxury sedan miles ago, pushing it into a deep ravine before hiking through the treacherous woods with Chloe on her back. Now, exhaustion was a physical weight, dragging her bones toward the earth.
Chloe lay on a dusty, moth-eaten cot. Lilith was carefully cleaning the scrape on the girl's arm with a bottle of iodine she’d kept in a go-bag for years. Chloe hissed as the liquid burned, her small hand gripping the rusted metal frame of the bed.
"I'm sorry, sweetie. I know it hurts," Lilith murmured, applying a sterile bandage.
"Mom?" Chloe asked, her voice raspy from crying and the smoke they had inhaled. "Are they going to kill us?"
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Lilith paused. She looked at her daughter’s bruised face, illuminated by the frail beam of light. She wanted to lie. She wanted to promise that everything would be okay, that they would find a new home by the ocean, that she would never have to be afraid again. But the Vances had burned the luxury of lies away.
"They are going to try," Lilith said softly, pressing a kiss to Chloe’s forehead. "But they have to go through me first. Get some sleep."
