hissed, my fingers fumbling in the pillowcase. I drew out the car keys and stabbed them into the ignition, missing a few times because of my shaky hand. But something halted me, catching my attention. On the passenger seat, I spotted my signature written at least ten times all over a piece of paper. Beanie was jumping around excitedly on top of it. Next to it was another paper. A copy of the will I had prepared for Mr. Donner on my company letterhead. They were using it as a template:
I hereby revoke, annul and cancel all wills and codicils previously made by me, either jointly or severally…
I felt sick. Kate had been practicing my handwriting. The forgery of my signature was good. Really good.
They had obviously bypassed the need for me to write my own will. No! They’d do it themselves. That’s what they’d been up to while I was locked up: sifting through my old letters, or anything with my signature on it. Rifling through my work files.
I turned the key and started the ignition, put the car into first gear, but the car groaned. The battery was all but dead. I tried again. Nothing. I cursed, tears welling in my eyes. I seized the forged will for evidence, crammed it into the elastic of my pajama waistband. Beanie let out a shrill bark, wondering why we weren’t going on an excursion. I had to make a split-second choice. The beach? Or the highway?
I’d have to take my chance and hitchhike, if I was lucky enough to even make it to the road.
Forty-Three
I opened the car door as quietly as I could and scrambled out, my feet landing on muddy gravel. The rain had started again in earnest. Beanie vaulted out after me, and I willed him not to bark, pressing a finger on my lips. He didn’t. He followed me as I hobbled towards the gate, adrenaline overriding the pain in my ankle. I buzzed the gate open and the creaking and clanking was as loud in my ears as a Manhattan garbage truck. Dan and Kate would hear. They’d catch me before I made it up the driveway. I hurled myself through the gap, Beanie at my heels, rain slamming my face, pelting down on my chest. My steps were ploddy and deliberate, moving more slowly than I wished, despite my racing heart. I began to pick up pace, even with the pain of gravel digging into my bare feet, even with the searing ache of my bad ankle. Beanie scarpered on ahead, a bark of excitement escaping him, and a rush of nausea rose up inside me knowing it was a matter of minutes before one of the triplets would pop up like a Jack-in-the-box and haul me back to my bedroom, or worse, the laundry room. This time they’d lock me up for good.
The sharp gravel pummeled the soles of my bare feet, but I scurried with all my strength, swinging my arms to give me momentum to get me up the hill, the rain and wind roaring in my ears, a dull throb at the base of my skull.
I tripped on a stick and crashed on my knee but forced myself to scramble back up and keep going, wincing with the shooting pain in my ankle as I flung one leg in front of the other. Blood trickled down my calf, and the insides of my legs threatened to collapse to jelly, splat-splot on the driveway, but I willed myself on. Stay alive, I repeated over and over. Stay alive. Core of steel. I turned my head as I ran and saw with relief that the gate had closed on itself and Beanie was still following me—not that having a dog would help me now, no, he’d be a hindrance. But the knowledge I was not completely alone in this world gave me extra strength.
I didn’t have time to reflect on the madness of the last couple of months, only that I’d be dead if I didn’t keep going. Breathe. Run. Breathe. Faster. Faster. Get to the main road. Run. Come on. Faster. One foot ahead. Keep going. Faster. Come on, you can do it. Stay alive. Stay alive. Please. Please let me live. Faster.
A hawk flew across my path, its great wings missing my nose by inches. The shock of it gave me an adrenaline surge that I welcomed, propelling me up the hill. I needed to make it to the camouflage