Chapter 5: Into the Garden
The crisp morning air hits their sweat-soaked skin as Nathan, Elena, and little Mia burst through the sliding glass doors onto the slate patio. The manicured lawns of the suburban estate stretch out before them, bordered by towering hedges of boxwood and weeping willows that rustle softly in the rising wind. Behind them, the sharp, metallic clatter of the kitchen door slamming open echoes across the stone patio.
“They won’t get far!” Clara’s voice rings out, sharp and venomous, carrying easily across the open expanse.
Nathan glances back over his shoulder. Clara has abandoned the hockey stick; instead, she holds a heavy, long-handled pruning shear pulled from the indoor garden kit by the pantry. The steel blades gleam menacingly in the morning sun as she charges toward the patio, her beige heels miraculously keeping their grip on the slate stones.
“Keep moving, Elena! Don’t look back!” Nathan pants, his chest heaving as he adjusts his grip on six-year-old Mia. The child is sobbing quietly into his shoulder, her small arms wrapped tightly around his neck, burying herself away from the nightmare behind them.
Elena stumbles, her breathing coming in ragged, painful gasps. The bruises along her ribs flare with every stride, but the primal instinct to protect her daughter fuels her forward momentum. She cuts across the rolling lawn, aiming for the dense labyrinth of the estate’s formal garden, where towering hedges create a natural maze of hiding spots and narrow pathways.
“The hedge maze,” Elena gasps, pointing a trembling finger toward the towering green walls ahead. “We can lose her in there. She won't be able to run in those heels.”
Nathan nods, altering his course sharply toward the arched iron gate of the maze. The iron is rusted at the hinges, groaning in protest as Nathan throws his shoulder against it, bursting through into the cool, shaded pathways flanked by walls of thick, ancient foliage. The sudden drop in temperature is palpable, the sunlight filtering down in fractured beams through the dense canopy above.
They plunge deeper into the labyrinth, taking a hard left, then a sharp right, relying entirely on Elena’s intimate knowledge of the estate grounds—knowledge gained from months of maintaining the very flora that now shields them.
Far behind them, echoing off the stone walls of the mansion, Clara’s furious voice reverberates through the maze.
“You can’t hide from me in my own home! I built this life, and I will burn it to the ground before I let a maid and a bastard child take it away!”
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Nathan slows their pace slightly behind a thick corner of boxwood, lowering Mia to her feet while keeping one hand clamped over her mouth to quiet her breathing. He looks at Elena, whose face is pale, smeared with dirt and dried blood, yet resolute.
“We need a plan,” Nathan whispers urgently, his suit jacket torn at the shoulder from the kitchen tackle. “She’s not going to stop until she’s destroyed us all.”
