The sedan’s engine rattled — a sound Riley had learned to
distinguish from its other mechanical complaints over the past three states.
This particular rattle meant she’d make it another fifty miles, maybe more if
she kept her speed steady. Her knuckles had gone white on the steering wheel
somewhere around the state line, and she couldn’t remember now how to relax
them. The GPS showed their arrival in Christmas Cove, and Riley’s shoulders
tensed further, an automatic response to any declaration of reaching a
destination.

Dusk had settled over the town. Main Street stretched before
her, lined with Victorian storefronts that belonged in a Thomas Kincade
painting. White lights twisted around lampposts, and wreaths hung at precise
intervals, each decorated with the same combination of pine cones and red
ribbon. Fresh snow dusted the sidewalks in a way that seemed too perfect, too
deliberate. Riley checked her rearview mirror again — the same compulsive
glance she’d made every thirty seconds for the past six hours. Empty road. No
one following. No one cared where she went.

She drove slowly past the Sugar Moon Café, noting its warm
glow and the silhouettes of people inside. Past a bookstore with a display of
holiday romances in the window. Past a hardware store already closed for the
evening, its owner probably home with family, sitting down to dinner, living a
normal life. The thought made something twist in Riley’s chest, but she pushed it
down. Normal was a luxury she couldn’t afford to want.

The residential streets branched off from downtown. Riley
followed the GPS directions, checking the crumpled paper in her cup holder
against the street signs and the directions from the GPS. One too many times,
it had taken her the wrong way. Oak Street. Maple Avenue. Someone had named
these roads with an almost nauseating wholesomeness, as if determined to prove
the town’s charm. She turned onto Pine Ridge Road, where the houses grew
sparser and the forest pressed closer to the road.

A small sound from the backseat made Riley’s gaze dart to
the mirror. Sabrina stirred in her car seat, her head rolling to the side as
she woke from the nap that had mercifully consumed the last hour of driving.
Riley watched her daughter’s eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness and
the strange lights outside.

“Mama?” Sabrina’s voice carried that quality of toddler
confusion. Not quite upset, but teetering on the edge of it.

“We’re here, sweetie.” Riley forced warmth into her voice,
though her jaw ached from clenching. “Look at all the pretty lights.”

Sabrina pressed her mittened hands against the window,
leaving tiny smudges on the glass. “Lights!” She bounced in her seat as much as
the straps would allow. “Pretty, Mama! Pretty!”

“Very pretty.” Riley’s smile felt tight on her face. She
wanted to share her daughter’s uncomplicated joy, but she kept scanning the
streets, cataloging escape routes, noting which houses had lights on and which
sat dark. Old habits. Necessary habits.

The GPS announced their final turn, and Riley’s breath
caught. The cottage stood at the end of a short gravel drive, a small structure
someone’s grandfather had most likely built and barely maintained enough to
keep standing. A single porch light illuminated the front door, and beyond it,
the forest loomed.

Riley pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. The
sudden silence felt heavy, broken only by Sabrina’s humming as she kicked her
feet against her car seat. Riley sat motionless, her hands still gripping the
wheel, and studied their new home.

The cottage was smaller than the photos had suggested.
Single-story, with a chimney that leaned slightly to the left. The windows were
dark, revealing nothing of the interior. Snow had drifted against the front
steps, undisturbed except for what looked like animal tracks, probably a deer
or raccoon. The porch railing needed paint, and one shutter hung at an angle.

But for now the house was theirs. For six months, at least, with
the first month paid in advance with money Riley had saved from extra shifts
and skipped meals. Six months to figure out what came next. After that, she’d
have to either renew the lease, or move on to another town.

“Out, Mama!” Sabrina had moved past patient and into
demanding. “Out now!”

“Just a minute, baby.”

Riley scanned the neighboring properties. The nearest house
sat quite a distance down the road, its windows dark. On the other side,
nothing but forest. The isolation should have comforted her. Fewer people meant
fewer questions, fewer chances of being found. But instead, it made her
hyperaware of how alone they were. No witnesses if something went wrong. No one
to hear them scream.

She shook her head, dislodging the thought. Nothing was
going to go wrong. This was a fresh start in a quiet town where nobody knew her
name or her history. Where Sabrina could grow up without her mother constantly
looking over her shoulder.

Jessica Coulter Smith is an acclaimed romance writer with a
passion for storytelling. Her works showcase the power of love and its ability
to transcend boundaries, capturing the hearts of audiences worldwide. With a
unique writing style and perspective, Jessica continues to inspire and
entertain readers from all walks of life.

Find her online…

 

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* Goodreads

 

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