One hour earlier …
Tinsley sat up, clinging to Teddy. The ratty stuffed bear did little to comfort her. She looked around, trying to figure out why she’d woken. Maybe just because she wasn’t in her own bed.
The familiar sounds of Hanna’s light snores helped ease her nerves. It was almost like being back in their room, and the house wasn’t far away.
Tap, tap, tap.
She squeezed Teddy harder. What was that noise? Was that what woke her?
Tinsley took a deep breath. She needed to be brave. Out of the four of them, she was the second oldest—even if everyone did think of her as being Hanna’s age. They were best friends and soon to be sisters. Hanna never judged her for being different.
Others, however nice they were, gave her the look. It was a combination of pity and fear. She was the abused daughter of two serial killers who murdered a bunch of policemen. And now her adopted mom and future dad were officers.
The irony didn’t escape her, even though she never voiced it.
Tinsley couldn’t help wondering if they ever feared for their safety. After all, what if she turned into her birth parents? They’d made her do things she never wanted to.
She’d been the bait. The one who lured in the cops.
And that wasn’t all.
Tap, tap.
Tinsley slid on her slippers, still holding Teddy, and tiptoed over to the window. Maybe it was just Dad checking on them again. He’d wanted to sleep outside, but Momma had convinced him they would be fine with Ariana there.
Stars shone in the night sky. The clouds were gone, and so were the wind and rain from earlier. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Maybe the tapping was a normal forest noise. The playhouse was so much thinner than their home, so she probably never heard most of the nighttime sounds.
Besides that, they’d only recently moved in. Everything was so new. Not to mention the body Hanna had found in the attic.
She shoved those thoughts from her mind and stepped away from the window. Everything was fine. She was safe now. Had been ever since Momma had started taking care of her.
Even so, death still followed her around. Taunted her. Brought back old memories. Not only had Hanna found that mummy, but Tinsley and Momma had found those bones in Grandma and Grandpa’s yard.
Death was everywhere. Reminding her she couldn’t escape its teasing.
She kicked off one slipper, ready to settle back into the sleeping bag.
Tap, tap, tap.
Tinsley froze in place. Nearly toppled over with one foot in the air.
Tap, tap.
She took a deep breath and put her slipper back on. Stood tall. Put on her brave face. Clutched Teddy for support. Crept back to the window.
Something red caught her attention. A flash of the color between some trees.
Red like blood.
No. Not blood. Lots of things were red. Like flowers, and the hearts on the bedroom wall.
Tinsley held her breath and watched as the unidentifiable red shape moved closer.
Closer.
The pace was like someone strolling without a care in the world.
It was a person. A lady, to be specific. She wore a long flowing dress and had long hair close to the same color.
What was she doing in the woods? Their woods? In the middle of the night, no less.
Maybe she was lost.
Or a ghost. Images from the stories before bed raced through her mind.
But ghosts weren’t real.
Or were they?
She pressed her nose and forehead against the cold glass and narrowed her eyes, trying to get a better view.
The woman wasn’t translucent. She looked as real as the plant life all around her.
She pointed at Tinsley. Waved.
It couldn’t be. Tinsley swallowed. She had to be imagining it. Or this was a dream. A very realistic dream.
She’d had worse.
The lady waved again.
Tinsley pointed at herself as if to ask if the woman meant her.
The lady in red nodded.
Blood drained from Tinsley’s head. Her heart hammered making it hard to breathe. She squeezed Teddy so hard he would surely burst and stepped toward the door. Pushed aside the bag blocking it and turned the knob.
Creak!
Tinsley jumped and spun around to make sure it hadn’t woken anyone. Everyone else lay sleeping.
She stepped onto the tiny ledge and leaned on the railing for a better look.
The woman motioned for her to come down.
Tinsley studied her. She seemed familiar. A chill ran through her.
Mother?
Then she shook her head. It couldn’t be. Mother’s hair was darker. And she’d been killed.
Or had she? Was she actually alive but nobody told her? It couldn’t be.
Unless it could.
Maybe people just wanted Tinsley to think Mother was dead. There hadn’t been a funeral. Nobody mourned a serial killer. But they also didn’t mourn the living.
Tinsley hesitated before climbing down the ladder.
The lady gestured for Tinsley to follow. She started walking before her face came into view. The long dress flowed behind her.
Tinsley hurried to catch up.