You Can't Hide by Theresa Sneed (uplifting novels TXT) 📕

The cabin was dark. He flicked his cigarette butt to the ground and studied the windows—no movement came from within. Quietly ascending the steps, he made his way to the front door. The screen door creaked as he opened it. He placed his hand on the door knob and turned. It was unlocked. Inside, he made his way through the cabin until he found the little girl, sleeping in her bed. Standing over her, he studied her tiny features. A cool breeze blew across the room, billowing the curtains out, and Sally squirmed. She pulled the blanket tighter to her chin.

A door opened from down the hallway and footsteps approached. The man searched the room and then slipped inside the closet. Leaving the door ajar, he watched with morbid pleasure.

“Sally,” the woman said, sitting on the edge of the bed. She wiped tears from her eyes then caressed the little girl’s forehead. Sally’s eyes fluttered open.

She yawned. “Hi, Aunt Karen.” Pulling herself up on her elbows, she made a face. “Why are you in my bedroom?” And then as if her tiny brain figured it out, she said, “Oh, I know why. You must have bad dreams like my Mommy.” She patted the bed beside her. “You can sleep with me.”

Karen lifted up the blanket and slipped in beside her. “What’s this?” Pulling a thin magazine out from under the covers, she smiled. “Richie Rich. I love this comic book.”

Sally gave another yawn. “Me too. Richie is so rich.” She stretched her arms out. “He buys lots of stuff to get out of all the trouble that his mean cousin makes.”

Karen nodded. “Mmm.”

Sally snuggled next to her and turned the page. “Where’s my Mommy?” She looked up at Karen.

“Oh, she went for a drive, but she’ll be back soon.” She kissed her on the forehead. “She’ll be back soon,” she whispered.

It didn’t take long for the little girl to drift back to sleep. Karen laid there for a few minutes before closing her eyes. The closet door opened wider.

Karen turned away from Sally and faced the opposite direction, but the man didn’t care if she saw him or not. In fact, he hoped she did. It would make her death all the sweeter.

Suddenly, a car pulled down the driveway. Its lights shone briefly across the ceiling.

Anger swelled within him—he was so close, so close. He clenched and unclenched his fists. It’s too late—for now. The car came to a stop, the whir of its engine fading to nothing. The man moved with stealth to the opened widow, pushed the screen out, and crawled through it.

Startled by the sound of the screen hitting against the side of the house, Sally bolted upright in bed. “Mommy!”

Four

Unresponsive

Elle clung to her grandfather. The doctor approached. He wasn’t smiling. Grammie moved to her other side. “How is he, doctor?”

“I’m afraid, my news is not good.” He sat down in a chair opposite them. “Sam’s brain is swollen. We’ve done all that we can do, and now, we have to wait.” His lips pursed. “He’s in a prolonged state of unconsciousness—a coma. We’re not sure if he’ll come out of it.”

Elle grabbed Grammie Gwen’s arm. “No.”

Gwen straightened. “What are his chances?”

He shrugged. “It’s hard telling, ma’am. He could return to his normal self, or be permanently disabled, or never regain consciousness at all.”

Elle blinked back the tears. She locked onto the ‘could return to his normal self,’ the rest was too painful to consider. “Can I see him?”

“In about an hour, but he won’t be able to hear you, or respond in any way.” The doctor glanced at Joe. “Perhaps you should all go home and get some rest.”

Elle shook her head. “I won’t leave him.”

The doctor stared at her. “I’ll have the nurse come get you when Sam is in his room. They’ll be transporting him to ICU as soon as he is out of the recovery room.”

Almost an hour to the minute passed before an orderly came into the waiting room. “He’s ready, Miss Heard.” He gestured for them to follow and then led them to Sam’s private room. “Only two in at a time, please.”

“You two go on,” Papa Joe said. He put his hand in the small of Gwen’s back and nudged her forward alongside Elle. “I’ll go in when you’re done.”

Inside the room, the lights were dim. Sam was hooked up to an IV, a heart monitor, and oxygen. Wrapped in wide bandages, his head looked oversized and unnatural. His face was bruised and had lacerations running across both cheeks. Crusty with a thin rim of blood, his eyes were shut, as if sleeping.

Elle ran to his side. She took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips, wetting it with her tears. Gwen stayed by the door, allowing her granddaughter the long moment she needed. After several seconds, she came to the other side of the bed. She leaned over and kissed Sam on the cheek, patted Elle’s hand on top of Sam’s, and then left the room.

Papa came in. He spoke quietly. “Sam’s parents are on their way. Apparently, they were out at Sam’s cabin, when John found them.” He squeezed her shoulder.

“Oh, Papa. What am I going to do?”

He kissed her on the forehead. “We’re not going to give up, Sweetheart.”

She looked up at her grandfather, the years showing in the worn creases on his face. He looked terribly tired. “Papa, it’s been a long night. Why don’t you guys go home for a bit? Get some sleep and come back later.”

“We can’t leave you, dear.”

She sighed. “You can’t get sick either, Papa.”

Worry etched in his eyes, but Elle could tell it was for her, and not for himself. Finally, he sighed. “No, I guess not,” he said. He scratched his nose. “We won’t be long, Sweetheart.”

Elle was alone. So very