𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒. ᵒᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵃⁿᵏˢ ¹

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 54.

"𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓," 𝐈 let out a long huff of air as John B stopped outside of a large modern beach house.

    My chest was heaving as I stared at the shiplapped paneling along it's walls in the darkness. My legs ached. My stomach cramped. My hands were shaking.

    And my heart was still beating out of my chest, at the never-ending thought of Sarah walking through that fire, and the shouts from all the police officers, and the calls coming from every teenager that had helped look for us. The image of the orange flames burning just about every inch of wood in that very church, poked at my mind as well. The bright colours caused my eyes to close in a blink at the memory, and the hot flames felt as though they were burning my skin, now— just thinking about it.

    "Yeah, I think so," he sighed, with a glance up at the address.

    I looked to our side. With a tired arm, I lazily pointed a finger to where my eyes had landed on, pointing at Rose Cameron's face on a listing poster, her name in big bold letters underneath.

    John B barely nodded his head before squeezing my hand tighter with his, ducking us towards the tall modern door. It was one of the houses Sarah had driven us by on the day she toured around the island. I looked up at the beach house with wide eyes, as John crouched down to reach the door's lock.

    He mumbled the code to himself as he pressed the buttons, and I carefully looked around behind and around us, just in case someone happened to be following. There were faint shouts in the distance, but the church was long gone out of sight.

    I let out a sigh of relief when the door pushed open. He turned his head around to cut me a short glance, before stepping over the elevated threshold, me following close behind him. I shut the door quietly, cautious not to make any noise.

    I didn't know where we were headed, my eyes were hooded from the darkness inside the house, until we reached the flight of stairs. He didn't even have to say anything for the two of us to carefully step up each step, nearly on our tip-toes.

    If it had been any normal night, I would've taken my time and looked around the whole place, my jaw probably dropped open, and my facial expression in awe, just by the beauty of the mansion. But all I could see in the dark, was sharp outlines of hanging light fixtures, paintings or portraits on the walls, and furniture. It wasn't any normal night.

    By the time we'd made it to the second floor, I wanted nothing more than to simply run into the nearest bedroom and envelop myself into unknown bed covers. But we couldn't sleep in the open.

    John B led us into a master bedroom. "Take some of the pillows, Charlie," he said, huffing.

    For a quick moment, I looked around the dark room. There was a large window, with thin and half-open curtains, overlooking the vast water. I stared out at the night sky. Down by the dock, there were three boards. And fishing equipment.

    I drew my attention away, and bit down on my bottom lip. I didn't say anything as I reached for some of the throw pillows placed on the large bed, the second my fingers touched the comfy material of them, I felt a relief spill over me. I rushed over to John B, who was opening the wide closet doors, dropping the pillows onto the floor.

    Then, it was only seconds before we were closing those same doors, surrounding us into an even graver darkness, and lying on the floor, on top of mountains of pillows. I slid my legs underneath the blanket.