“Ava! Ava where are you?” Silas trudged through the mud, shining his flashlight across the wet grass and weeds. The rain made it impossible to follow the girl’s footprints and he had no idea where she’d run.
But he had to find her.
He’d already killed his own daughter. He couldn’t let Ava die, too. And then there was Becky… She wasn’t doing well. She needed medical attention.
But if he carried her to the hospital, he’d have to explain. Then they’d arrest him and his wife.
And he’d lose everything.
He was starting not to care… everything he’d loved was falling apart anyway. He’d ruined it all. Destroyed everything he’d ever believed in. The nightmares of killing Piper tormented him day and night. He couldn’t live with another child’s death on his conscience.
But he couldn’t betray his wife. Couldn’t send her to prison. She’d never survive.
Rain slashed his face and coat as he hurried across the rocky terrain. The wind swirled wet leaves from the trees, sending them in a blinding haze. Sleet pounded the ground at his feet.
His flashlight lit on a patch of weeds, and he spotted a torn piece of fabric caught in it. It was from Ava’s shirt.
Damn, she’d run out without a coat or hat or gloves. She could freeze.
He shined the light down the hill and into the woods in the distance. In spite of the frigid temperature, sweat beaded on his neck and trickled down his back. Even if she didn’t freeze, she might get lost in the forest or fall and get hurt.
If he found her, his wife would punish her for running away.
Desperation ate at him. He panned the grassy land below the secluded house his wife had bought and saw the trees lined up for picking. All the good ones were gone now, the farm shop having shut down, leaving the area even more isolated. His wife had been careful not to let the girls outside while people combed the farm choosing and cutting down their own tree.
Seeing the families there, laughing, the kids running between the rows of pines, spruces and firs, had tormented him and made his wife cling to the girls even more. He’d been shocked at the lengths she’d resorted to in order to bring them here. When he’d seen the news last year about Kaylee’s mother’s suicide, he couldn’t help wondering…
The sound of the wind howling made him step up his pace and he hurried down the hill, shining the light at the edge of the woods. For several minutes, he searched the trees, pausing to listen for a child crying.
“Ava, it’s cold out here. Please let me take you back where it’s warm!” he shouted.
Fear bolted through him as he trudged several feet and searched behind trees and stumps and in the bushes. “Ava!”
But his voice sounded muffled in the wind, and she was so tiny that if she did call out, he probably wouldn’t hear her.
He spent the next half hour hacking at weeds and drudging through the murky vines. Turning in a wide arc, he looked back at the tree farm again, then decided to search there. Maybe Ava saw the hut and ran to it to escape the rain.
His boots skidded as he hurried along the edge of the woods, then down the hill, the cold biting through his coat. “Ava!”
The rain intensified, making visibility difficult, but he pushed on until he reached the small hut. The farm shop had shut down early this year because the owner had sold out, and it was deserted. The saplings which weren’t mature enough for cutting swayed in the harsh wind gusts.
“Ava?” He shined the light across the ground and the sleigh where families enjoyed taking holiday pictures, then walked toward the hut. Hay had been stacked inside, and puddles of water circled the ground. He approached slowly, peering around the hut, then finally spotted Ava curled into a ball on the floor against the hay, her body trembling violently.