Charlotte
Panic flared like a physical warmth, far more intense than the friction of the night.
“Honey, I’m back! Open the door!”
My mother-in-law’s voice was clear now, right on the other side of the woods.
My eyes widened. Unsure of what to do. My uncle looked like a thief who was caught by the police.
She was supposed to spend the entire week at Grandma’s house, and her early return was a cold bucket of water poured over our sweat-slicked skin.
We started sweating for an entirely different reason now, the adrenaline of fear making my blood boil and my heart hammer against my ribs.
“Honey…are you hearing me?” she called out again, the handle rattling.
Still, Uncle didn’t respond for a few seconds as he frantically scanned the room.
“Inside…the wardrobe…” he whispered, pointing
