93

Chad climbed the stairs to the second floor.

He’d thought he’d heard Jack’s voice, and then someone walking toward the stairs. But no one had come down, and now the house had fallen silent once more. Chad didn’t like going up the stairs. He was afraid of what he might find. He was also afraid the exertion would cause him to lose more blood. But he had no choice, really.

The only possible way out of this house was from a second-floor window. And besides, in all good conscience, he couldn’t just leave Annabel up here after he’d heard her call his name.

He reached the top of the stairs.

Chad looked around. There was no one. But peering down the hallway, he could see the door to Annabel’s room was open. He had to go in there and look for her. If she wasn’t there, then he was throwing open the window and making a jump for it. The snow was so high out there, Chad figured he might actually be able to just step out onto it, if it was packed hard enough.

He took his first step down the corridor. Under his foot, the old floorboards creaked.

Chad paused, listening. He heard nothing, so he continued on down the hall.

At Annabel’s door, he paused again.

“Annabel?” he whispered, looking inside.

He heard the sound of crying. It was coming from the closet. He hurried to the closet door.

“Annabel!” he called.

If that was her behind the door, she was sobbing uncontrollably. She couldn’t speak.

“Hang on, Annabel,” Chad said, grabbing the closet door handle and finding it locked. “I’ll get you out of there. I’ll get you out and then we are getting out of this house.”

He began to shake the door handle as hard as he could.