Chapter 6: The Pursuit
“Stop right there!” Julian’s voice boomed down from the landing, laced with sudden, venomous rage as he spotted the figures of the maid and the child near the front entrance.
Clara grabbed the key fob and bolted toward the heavy double oak doors, pulling the massive brass handle with all her weight. The night air rushed in, carrying the scent of rain and damp earth. Behind her, heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs and across the marble floor. Mrs. Gable stumbled, her black uniform catching on the splintered wood of the broken grandfather clock, sending her sprawling onto the stone floor.
“Go, Clara! Run!” Mrs. Gable cried out, pushing herself up onto her elbows as Julian closed the distance between them with terrifying speed.
Clara hesitated for a fraction of a second, torn between loyalty to the maid and the desperate need to escape. “Mrs. Gable!” she screamed, her voice cracking with pure terror.
“Don’t look back! Get the car!” the maid yelled, throwing herself into Julian’s path just as he lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his knees to bring him crashing down to the floor.
Clara burst through the open doorway and sprinted across the gravel driveway toward Marcus’s idling sedan. The rain was beginning to fall harder now, turning the gravel into a slippery, treacherous path. She reached the driver’s side door, fumbling frantically with the heavy metal handle until it clicked open. Climbing into the plush leather interior, she slid across the seat and jammed the key fob into the ignition, twisting it with desperate force.
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The dashboard lit up in a brilliant cascade of digital displays. The engine roared to life with a deep, guttural growl that reverberated through the chassis. Through the rain-streaked windshield, Clara saw Marcus Vance burst out of the front doors, sprinting across the portico with a furious expression, shouting obscenities as he realized his getaway vehicle was being commandeered by an eight-year-old girl.
Marcus lunged at the driver's side window, his hands slamming against the reinforced glass just as Clara threw the automatic gearshift into reverse. The tires spun furiously on the wet gravel, spitting small stones against the side of the house before the car lurched backward, throwing Marcus off balance. Clara gripped the steering wheel with both hands, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird as she navigated the sweeping driveway toward the iron estate gates that stood locked against the stormy night.
