Chapter 7 - The Break of Day
Before Clara could pull the trigger, a sudden, powerful crash echoed from the front porch. The front door burst inward, and two uniformed officers from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police surged into the room, guns raised.
"Drop the weapon! Police! Drop it now!"
Right behind the officers was Glen, breathless, pale, and holding his phone. He had tracked my phone's GPS location when I didn't check in, contacting the local Canadian authorities the moment he realized we were heading into a high-risk situation.
Clara gasped, looking around at the armed officers, Arthur holding down Vance, and Glen standing by the doorway. Realizing her twisted game was completely over, her hand wavered. The silver pistol slipped from her numb fingers, clattering onto the rug.
The police immediately swarmed forward, forcing Clara to her knees and snapping heavy steel handcuffs around her wrists. Vance was dragged up and handcuffed as well.
"Sarah!" Glen rushed to my side, wrapping his arms around both me and my father. "Are you okay? Is everyone alright?"
"We're okay," I breathed, collapsing against Glen's chest as the adrenaline finally left my body. "We found him, Glen. He's really here."
My father looked at Glen, then at me, the fog in his mind rapidly clearing as the psychological hold Clara had maintained over him began to shatter. "George..." Arthur said softly, walking over and placing a warm hand on his brother's shoulder. "You're safe now, brother. You're going home."
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My dad looked down at his own hands, then up at Arthur and me. Big, heavy tears spilled down his weathered cheeks. "Arthur... Sarah... my baby girl... I remember. God help me, I remember."
The officers led a weeping, hysterical Clara out into the cold night air. Outside, red and blue emergency lights flashed against the dark pine trees, illuminating the path back to the world we thought had ended seven years ago.
