Chapter 1 - The Ghost at the Door
The brass doorknob turned, the metal cold against my sweaty palm. The deadbolt gave way with a heavy, sickening thud.
“Elena.”
The voice was a harsh, raspy whisper. It wasn't my husband. It wasn’t a stranger. Through the two-inch gap in the door, I saw the frantic, bloodshot eyes of David Vance—Mark’s estranged business partner. The man Mark claimed had fled the state after embezzling from their startup.
“David?” I gasped, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
“Don’t open it all the way,” David hissed, his weight pressed against the wood from the outside. “There’s a black SUV turning onto your street. If they see the door open, you’re dead. Out the back. Now.”
Mia whimpered, burying her face into my hip. My brain screamed for an explanation, but the sheer, raw terror radiating from David’s face overrode my logic. He wasn't here to hurt us; he was terrified for us.
“Go!” David urged, his eyes darting toward the street. “I parked two streets over. An old gray sedan. I’ll meet you in the alley behind the fence. Run, Elena!”
I slammed the door shut, twisted the deadbolt, and grabbed Mia in my arms. She was a heavy seven-year-old, but adrenaline turned my muscles to steel. I sprinted through the kitchen, dodging the island, and kicked open the back screen door. The damp morning air hit my lungs like glass. We tore across the wet grass, the mud ruining my socks, just as I heard the front door being kicked with the force of a battering ram.
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The wood splintered. A heavy voice yelled inside my living room.
I didn't look back. I hoisted Mia over the wooden privacy fence, scrambled over the top, and dropped into the muddy alleyway, running for our lives.
