Broken Glass by V. C. Andrews

Author:V. C. Andrews [Andrews, V. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Sagas, Psychological, Romance, General, Gothic, Thrillers, Coming of Age
ISBN: 9781476792378
Google: YdwrDgAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1476792372
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2017-02-28T05:00:00+00:00

12

Kaylee

His arms were loaded with tools when he came into the house, but I thought he might have to make more than one trip. If he did, I hoped he would drop these things off at the door and head back out before going down and discovering that I wasn’t there. That would give me a better chance to sneak away and a better head start after he went out again to his tool shed. If I could get down to the road before he returned to the house, I’d have all the time it would take him to carry down the tools and materials, see I wasn’t there, and come rushing back upstairs. He might waste time searching the house first. I might even be able to reach his closest neighbor.

I saw the look of eagerness on his face when he was in the entryway. He was whistling, too, sounding as happy as I imagined he could. In his mind, everything he had planned and imagined with Haylee was coming true. He was building a new home here for his fantasy family. But I knew that the moment he realized I was gone, his happiness so high up would come crashing down hard, and I feared how he would be if he caught me. I trembled envisioning that but kept very quiet, holding my breath.

He did pause for a moment and look in my direction. Had I touched something, left some sort of evidence of my escape from the basement? One of the tools he carried looked sharp enough to cut off my head. Terror was almost at a boiling point inside me. I was sure I had uttered a small sob of alarm, as if there was truly a second me inside myself, a me I couldn’t control.

Had he heard it?

He did stop whistling.

I cringed and waited, squeezing my eyes closed and pressing my hands so tightly against my breasts that they hurt. After a long and frightening moment, I heard him start whistling again and continue down the hallway. I stepped out and listened harder, hoping to hear the basement door opening. He appeared to have stopped again, probably right at the doorway to the bedroom that had a coffin on the bed. It seemed like minutes passing rather than seconds, because he wasn’t moving, and I didn’t hear the basement door opening. Was he unloading his tools and coming back to get more things as I had suspected? I waited, but I didn’t hear anything. I continued inching forward until I could see him in the hallway, just staring into the bedroom. I thought he was whispering.

I remained back, holding my breath. Finally, I heard him open the basement door and start down the stairs, carrying what he had. There would be less time than I had hoped. I moved quickly but as quietly as I could to the screen door and opened it just enough to slip out, closing it softly behind me. The house

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