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.
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