This was a difficult day for Miller, the anniversary of his mother's death. He dreaded and feared it. He never knew how he would get through the day. The renewed grief was heavy, and old memories of his mother came back to him sharper, including the ones of her death.
Photos of her all over the house would make him smile one minute and haunt him the next. It was especially hard once Austin left for work.
Miller's own work couldn't distract him, but it helped that Remi was there. Hearing him and getting to hold him soothed his grief for a little while.
Miller spent the day caught between painful memories of his loss and sweeter memories from happier days with his mom, days before Edgar. In the afternoon, he got a text from Austin telling him that he would be home on time. Miller looked at the earlier text he sent. "I wish I was there with you," it said and it made him smile.
Harriet had taken Remi to visit Tami and Tanya next door, and Miller was finishing up work so he would be free to spend time with Austin when he got home. Miller was listening for his key in the door though he thought Harriet and Remi might be back first.
He heard a knock at the front door instead, but it was too loud to be Harriet and she had a key. Going to open it, Miller faced a man in a baseball cap with his head down.
Before Miller could ask him anything, the man put a knife to his throat and grabbed Miller by the hair. He raised his head and smiled. Edgar. It was Edgar.
To stand face to face with him today of all days, it was like some terrible hallucination. How could he be here?
Even as Miller wanted to deny this was real, the cruel grip that switched from his hair to his upper arm and the knife pointed straight at his throat wouldn't let him.
The knife went from his throat and was now pressing into his side. Edgar tugged at him and his smile twisted as he said, "Let's go. Unless you want that little baby and that girl to get mixed up in this."
Oh God, they would be back any minute. Miller didn't even need to think before he let Edgar drag him away and across the street.
Through the terror, Miller felt relief too because Edgar was taking him away from the house and that meant no one else would get hurt.
Edgar pushed him inside the house that had been under renovation. The place had been stripped to the beams and there was debris all around. Miller wondered if he could grab something to defend himself, but Edgar was right behind him and put the knife to his throat again.
"This place wasn't my first choice, but it will do," he said and dragged Miller to the stairs and to the second floor.
Things were pretty much the same there, but Edgar now headed for the next set of stairs pulling Miller along with him and keeping the knife against his neck. They ended up in the attic, which didn't have much construction debris, just rotting cardboard boxes.
Edgar shoved him forward and Miller fell. He saw that the light in there was coming from an attic window that had been enlarged into a gaping hole in the wall.
He didn't have time to see much else because Edgar was standing above him kicking him and calling him and his mother names. But he couldn't hurt her any more. She was out of his reach. Miller didn't know what Edgar wanted with him though, other than to hurt him.
Suddenly Edgar pulled him up to his knees and then he slammed his head into one of the beams in the low, slanted ceiling. The blow dazed Miller, made him feel sick, but he stayed conscious. He couldn't fight back though as he felt Edgar pull his arms back and tie his wrists behind his back. Then he tied his ankles together too.
Edgar wanted him helpless. Why? He already had a knife to his throat. He could have finished him off before now. What more did he want?
"Do you know what day it is, Miller?" Edgar asked.
"The day you killed my mother," Miller snarled at him, his hate for the man overtaking his fear.
"It's a special day, and its about to get even more special when you go splat," Edgar said.
"You'll go back to prison. And you're never getting out after this," Miller told him.
"You think I'm worried? I have cancer, you little prick. That's why they paroled me. I'm terminal and oh so remorseful," he said mockingly. "After I'm done with you, they can put me away for life, if I even make it to trial."
Now Edgar dragged him over to the ragged opening where the window was meant to be.
"It's not that high up, but let's see what happens when you go out head first," Edgar said and started pulling him up.
Miller now knew why Edgar tied him up. Being thrown from up here wouldn't necessarily kill Miller. By tying him up, Edgar could make sure he went down head first.
Miller was fighting him, but with his hands and feet tied, he couldn't do much. Miller yelled, but the opening faced the back yard. Would anyone hear him?
Edgar punched the side of his head and told him, "The window was a little small. I enlarged it just for you. You want to see what's down there?" Edgar laughed. "Come on, have a look." Edgar shoved his head out the window, and Miller saw a concrete slab covered with pieces of construction debris.
The concrete didn't extend very far, but it didn't need to. Miller would be going straight down.
His body halfway out the window, Miller couldn't breathe. His vision was swimming, and Edgar was pushing him to his fall.
The struggle Miller put up seemed futile, only an outlet for his terror and sure to fail. But then Miller's shirt caught on a piece of wood sticking out of the rough opening.
Miller's struggle made it difficult for Edgar to free him, but Miller still didn't see any way to save himself. Then suddenly Edgar was gone, and Miller felt a pair of much stronger hands pulling him back inside the attic and leaning him against the wall.
It was Austin, but Miller now looked frantically for Edgar. He opened his mouth to warn Austin that he had a knife, but Edgar already had it in his hand and was about to strike.
Miller pushed himself away from the wall and lunged at Austin clumsily, desperately. But it was enough. The knife missed Austin, and Miller felt a terrible pain in his side as he fell to the floor.
He looked up at two indistinct figures fighting, struggling over the knife before it went flying. Then the bigger man, Austin, was pummeling the other one until he fell over backwards.
His vision darkening, Miller saw Austin rushing over, looming over him, telling him he was going to be OK. But all Miller needed was too see that Austin was OK and he could let go, fall into the darkness.