Chapter 11 - The Knock on the Door
"Paige?" I stopped cold, my hand gripping the edge of the door.
She looked skeletal. Her eyes were sunken, dark purple bruises of exhaustion shadowing her cheekbones. She wasn't wearing shoes—only heavy wool socks soaked through with mud and damp autumn leaves.
"Ethan," she rasped, her voice catching in her throat. She looked behind her, frantically checking the quiet suburban street as if she were being pursued. "You have to help me. Please. Don't shut the door."
Dad came around the corner from the dining room, his smile vanishing instantly the moment he saw his youngest daughter on the porch. "Paige? What on earth happened to you? Where is your car?"
"I... I ran from Mom's house," she gasped, collapsing onto her knees right on my welcome mat, trembling violently. "Mom didn't just take that loan from Claire's dad, Ethan. You don't know the whole story. None of us did."
I stepped out onto the porch, instinctively scanning the empty street. The streetlights flickered to life in the gathering dusk, casting long, eerie shadows across the pavement. A dark sedan with tinted windows was idling quietly at the corner of the block, its engine humming in the quiet evening.
"What are you talking about, Paige?" I demanded, crouching down to grab her shoulders.
Paige gripped my forearms with terrifying strength, her fingernails digging through the fabric of my sweater. Her eyes were dilated with pure terror.
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"Mark didn't leave Claire," Paige whispered, tears spilling over her dirt-streaked cheeks. "Mark is Claire's half-brother, Ethan. Her father made Mom swear to never tell you. And the money they gave Mom wasn't a loan—it was an payoff to keep you from finding out who you really married."
Before I could process the monstrous words coming out of my sister's mouth, the idling black sedan at the corner accelerated smoothly down the street, pulling directly into my driveway and cutting off our only exit.
