Chapter 4 - Into the Shadows
I clung to the wet brick wall of our neighbor's garage, my breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Through the thick foliage of the cedar hedges, I saw the bright beam of Daniel’s flashlight cutting through the darkness of our backyard. He walked slowly, shining the light over the broken trellis and the crushed ivy where I had fallen.
"Sarah!" he called out, his voice no longer pretending to be sweet. It was hard, commanding, and dangerous. "I know you're out here! You're sick, Sarah. You need your medication. Come inside before you hurt yourself!"
I’m not sick, I whispered to myself, tears of pain and anger hot on my cold cheeks. And I am never going back into that house.
I forced myself to move, keeping my weight off my injured left ankle. I dragged my leg through the dark alleyway that ran behind the suburban homes. My mind was racing. I couldn't go to the main road; they would drive up and down looking for me. I couldn't call a taxi or an Uber; they would track my location through my phone—which I had left on the nightstand to avoid being GPS-tracked.
I had to get to Clara.
Clara was my best friend from college. She was a defense attorney, sharp-witted and fiercely loyal. Daniel had tried to isolate me from her over the past six months, telling me Clara was "jealous of our marriage" and "toxic." Now, I realized he did it because Clara would be the first to see through his lies.
Her apartment was three miles away. In my condition, walking three miles would take hours, and the sun would be up by then.
I dragged myself to a small, local 24-hour convenience store at the edge of the neighborhood. The neon sign buzzed overhead, casting a harsh pink light onto the wet asphalt. I hobbled inside, shivering, my pajamas soaked in mud and rainwater.
The teenager behind the counter looked up from his phone, his eyes widening at my disheveled appearance.
"Miss? Are you okay?" he asked, stepping back slightly.
"I... I was in a car accident nearby," I lied, my voice shaking. "My phone is dead. Can I please use your landline? It's an emergency."
He hesitated, then pushed a dusty black telephone toward me. "Sure. Make it quick."
I dialed Clara’s number from memory, praying she hadn't changed it.
Ring... ring... ring...
"Hello?" her sleepy voice answered.
"Clara," I choked out, a sob escaping my throat. "Clara, please don't hang up. It's Sarah."
"Sarah? Oh my god, where have you been? Your husband told me you went to a private retreat to recover from a breakdown! He said you didn't want to talk to anyone—"
"He lied, Clara," I whispered, keeping my eye on the convenience store entrance. "He’s drugging me. He and Rachel are trying to steal my father’s estate and commit me to a mental institution. I escaped, but my leg is broken or badly sprained. I’m at the corner store on Elm Street. Please, you have to help me."
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. Clara didn't hesitate for a single second.
"Stay right there. Don't go outside. I'll be there in seven minutes. Keep your eyes open."
I hung up the phone and huddled in the back aisle of the store, hiding behind a display of potato chips. Every time headlights swept across the glass storefront, my heart stopped, fearing it was Daniel’s black sedan.
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Six minutes later, a silver SUV screeched into the parking lot. Clara jumped out, holding a heavy coat. I stumbled out of the store, and the moment she saw me, she wrapped the coat around my shoulders and helped me into the passenger seat.
As we sped away into the night, I looked in the side mirror. Just as we turned the corner, a familiar black sedan pulled into the convenience store parking lot. Daniel had tracked my path.
