None of them had. They’d been stolen. His mother had been brave, her last act selfless. She was more than the poor choices she’d once made. So much more. It was the last thought Camden had before the world faded, the dirt falling through his fingers, grain by grain, until there was no more.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Mason sat in the small space behind the hidden wall in the storage area of the basement. He draped an arm over his knees, listening for any sound that might reach his ears from above. Nothing came except the creaks and groans that he still knew well, even after all of these years, as though he somehow shifted right along with the house. His heart beat swiftly, every nerve prickled. He’d waited for Georgia. He’d waited, but she hadn’t shown up before they did, the men of Farrow who came in cars and trucks, touting rifles and handguns, dogs barking excitedly in one of the pickup beds. They’d mobilized quickly. Mason had stood at the window and watched them unload, gritting his teeth with fear and rage, hoping fervently that Georgia had seen them driving toward the road that led to Lilith House and held back.
They’d started walking to the house, two hounds straining on leashes, and Mason had booked it to the basement where he’d holed up behind the secret wall, listening as they searched the house, and then hearing their footsteps move toward the front door and spill out into the forest. Whatever item they’d given the dogs to trace, it hadn’t been his. Apparently, they had other priorities, namely Camden and Scarlett who the dogs must have tracked to the forest. But that wouldn’t be the case for long. They’d come for him next. And Georgia. He was certain they had the roads blocked off. Just like Camden had said, there would be no leaving Farrow.
If they could manage it somehow, there’d be no entering Farrow, either.
He’d risked calling Georgia once he’d heard the door of Lilith House slam, but it went straight to voicemail again. He’d turned his off too and stuck it in his pocket, lest his phone give him away by lighting up.
Mason itched to move, to come out of hiding and search for Georgia, perhaps leave the house and make his way to the edge of the road, wait for her car. Would they have posted someone on the road? Either at the turnoff from town or at the beginning of the long driveway that led to Lilith House? Both?
As he sat there, Mason ran through escape scenarios, all his possibilities, trying to figure out the safest thing to do. There was only the smallest modicum of light in the hidden space, only enough to see the outline of his own legs, and the box that sat next to him, the one Camden had shoved in Mason’s hands. A gun. Use this if you need to.
Mason opened the box, removing the weapon, and then pushing the portion of wall aside. He climbed out of his hiding spot as quietly as he could. Would they have left someone behind to guard the house in case anyone tried to return? Likely. Maybe that person was outside, walking the perimeter? Or maybe they were stationed in the foyer, sitting as quietly as a mouse.
Mason crept through the basement, climbing the stairs noiselessly, toward the slip of light below the door. He remembered each place to step to avoid the creaky boards, just as he and Cam had done so many times in their youth for one reason or another, just as he and Georgia had done the night they broke in and tried to scare Scarlett from the crawlspaces in the walls. He couldn’t use those crawlspaces now. Camden had nailed them shut, and even if Mason tore the boards away, the nail holes and damage would expose the once-hidden entries.
With utmost caution, Mason opened the upper door, slipping into the hallway and using the back stairs to climb to the second floor, stopping every few minutes to listen to the sounds around him. He heard a series of strange squeaks and they caused him pause, but Lilith House was undergoing several structural changes, ones he’d overseen himself. Her sounds might be slightly different now than when he’d lived there, but he had no way of knowing for sure. He entered a dark second-floor bedroom at the front and went to the window, sticking the gun in his waistband, moving the heavy,