Liz knew she needed to tell Hannah soon. She’d hoped she’d be able to confirm her belief about the island first. Charles argued that they needed to tell Hannah everything before they excavated. Just in case.
“All right,” she finally agreed, closing the box and turning the tumblers to lock it. “We’ll talk to Hannah about it tomorrow.”
As she was turning the last of the tumblers, the doorbell rang, and Charles went to answer it.
“Yes?” she heard her husband ask.
“Hello, Charles,” a man’s voice spoke. “Where’s your wife?”
Liz felt her knees grow weak. The man’s voice was malicious. Cruel.
Her intuition told her what was happening. Somehow, the Others had learned what she’d found, and they’d sent someone to get the location.
She had to hide the box. She ran out to the garage, looking around frantically, her eyes falling on a spot that might work. She shoved the box inside, and then ran back in the house to help her husband. As her foot crossed the threshold of the kitchen, she heard a shot. She grabbed the door jamb and covered her mouth to stifle the sound of her scream. She heard a thud. Charles…
Footsteps headed toward the kitchen, and she looked wildly around the room for any kind of weapon. The man walked in, brandishing a knife before she could find one.
“Hello, Liz. I believe you have something I want.”
Liz sank to the floor, her body wracked with sobs.
I’m so sorry, Hannah.