Legacy by Charlotte Greene

Author:Charlotte Greene [Greene, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781635554915
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2019-07-14T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Her return to the cabin was careful, slow. Now that she had decided to go back, she didn’t want to risk hurting herself on the way. She would need every ounce of strength to face what was inside, waiting for her. She threw several wary glances behind her, but if the darkness emanating from the man was following her, she could no longer see it when she couldn’t see him. She didn’t know what that meant, or why that should be, and she didn’t want to. She was certain he was still down there, somewhere, watching for her.

She’d left the door to the cabin open in her haste, and she stood at the foot of the stairs to the porch, peering cautiously inside. The lamp was on, and the door to the bedroom stood open. She jumped when the tarp over the window shifted and had to put a hand over her heart to stop it from racing. She had to force herself to take the three little steps up onto the porch and inside. She closed and locked the door and stood there staring at the bedroom door.

Her legs were trembling as she took the five or six steps toward the bedroom. She threw one terrified glance inside and slammed the door, breathing heavily. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths again to calm down, and waited, her hand still on the knob. Nothing happened. She opened her eyes and took a few wary steps away, sitting down on the sofa, where she could look at both doors. From here, she would be able to see both visitors if they came—the man in the woods and the thing in the bedroom.

She paused then, frowning, forgetting her fear for a moment. Could she be right? Were two different things happening here—one inside, and one out? If so, what did that mean? If it was true, she realized, whatever was inside hadn’t tried to hurt her. Seeing things move on their own was frightening, but it wasn’t the same as being compelled to climb into a well or hit on the head or pushed off a cliff. Maybe whatever was inside wasn’t dangerous. Maybe it was trying to show her something.

The feeling she’d had earlier, when she was staring at the dresser, washed over her again—that curiosity, that familiarity, almost as if the dresser was part of the cabin. Antique or not, it was strange that it was still here. It took up a lot of space in that bedroom, more than was comfortable, actually. You had to turn sideways to get past it to the far side of the room, an awkward maneuver in the middle of the night. She’d stubbed her toe on it countless times, and she knew everyone else had, too, when they stayed in there. So why hadn’t they put it in a bigger room?

She was breathless, on the brink of understanding something. She rose, almost without realizing she was doing it, and walked toward the bedroom door.

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