pet burned her skin, but she did not care. She reached out an

e speaker, but the faint, tinny voice of the dispatcher was still audible in the de

lined with broken glass. She forced the words out,

chest. He ended the call and reached down, patting

the tension. She immediately demanded Clara pack her th

teel-toed boot. He looked down at Clara, giving her a st

nt door. The heavy wood slammed shut behind h

still kneeling on the floor. She ordered Clara not to

ed herself off the floor. Her shoulder throbbed with a dul

y bedroom. Her footsteps felt incredibly heav

duffel bag from under her creaky twin bed. She grabbe

bag opened. Clara began throwing her few worn sweater

small, framed photograph of her father from the nightstand.

shirt. She tucked it safely into the very center of t

eeching voice complained about the noise

uffel bag over her shoulder. The rough canvas st

o the dark front porch. The afternoon sun had sunk behind the tree line, and the cold evening wind hit Clara immediately. T

unched loudly against the gravel driveway, the so

ighway. The only light came from distant, flickering stre

t of wind from the speeding vehicle almost knoc

tighter, her knuckles turning white, and continued walki

by the time she reached the woods. Clara was left to navigate the uneven

lara flinched hard, her heart skipping a beat. She quicken

eavily to one side. It marked the beginning of the

es sank slightly into the damp, freezin

ouette of a rundown log cabin. It sat completely is

side window. It cast long, creepy shadows on the ta

chest heaved up and down. A wave of profound,

zen legs to move forward, one agonizing step at a