Chapter 10 The Knock
I was halfway home when the feeling hit me — the heavy, crawling sensation of being watched.
My fingers tightened around my phone like it was a lifelime until my knuckles hurt. The screen was still open to Mom’s angry message. The night air felt thicker, colder, pressing in from all sides. I glanced over my shoulder again, but the path was empty, only faint moonlight cutting through the trees.
'It’s just paranoia, Abby. Calm down.'
But it didn’t feel like paranoia.
Every light rustle of leaves made my skin prickle. I quickened my pace, sneakers hitting the dirt path faster.
I regretted not taking the car. It had been sitting in the garage collecting dust ever since my small accident three months ago — nothing serious, just a dented fender, but Mom had been too nervous to let me drive since then. Now I wished I had fought her on it.
Then I heard it.
A soft but heavy rustle in the bushes to my right.
I stopped dead, heart slamming against my ribs. The sound stopped too.
I started walking again. Faster. Almost jogging now.
Another rustle. Closer this time.
Then a low creak of wood, like a heavy foot stepping on an old fallen branch. The sound echoed unnaturally loud in the silent night.
My breath caught in my throat. This town had always been peaceful. No crime. People left doors unlocked. Kids played outside until late. But tonight, with Mom’s strange warnings, the men in black suits at my birthday service, Chloe and Leah’s watching me, and Eli… nothing felt safe anymore.
Fear clawed up my spine and I broke into a run.
My sneakers pounded against the dirt path. The rustling followed me for a few terrifying seconds before falling silent. I didn’t look back. I just ran, chest burning, until I reached our street.
By the time I got to the front door, I was gasping for air, covered in a cold sweat, legs shaking. I fumbled with my keys, hands trembling so badly I almost dropped them twice.
The moment I pushed the door open, I screamed.
Mom was standing right there in the entrance hall, arms crossed tightly over her chest, eyes red-rimmed and blazing with a mixture of fury and fear.
“Abigail Grace Thompson!”
Her voice cracked through the quiet house like a whip. I jumped back, hand flying to my chest, nearly stumbling over my own feet.
“Mum! You scared the life out of me!”
“Where have you been?” she demanded, stepping forward. Her voice trembled with barely contained anger. “I told you to stay home. I told you to lock the doors. I come back and the house is empty? At this time of night? After everything I said to you?”
“I… I went for a walk,” I lied, my voice small and unsteady. “I couldn’t sleep. I needed fresh air. I’m sorry.”
“A walk?” She laughed bitterly, but there was no humor in it. “At almost one in the morning? After I specifically told... begged you not to leave the house? Do you think I’m stupid, Abby?”
This was new territory. I had never really argued with Mom before. Not like this. She had always been strict but loving, and I had always obeyed. But tonight the guilt, the fear, and the overwhelming confusion of everything happening made something inside me snap.
I’m eighteen now,” I said, my voice rising despite the knot in my throat. “You can’t keep treating me like a child. You dress up and leave at night with vague excuses. You won’t tell me anything. Those men at my birthday service — you dragged me out like the place was burning down. Since then, you’ve been watching me like I’m about to disappear. And now you’re acting like I’m the one doing something wrong? I deserve to know what’s going on!”
Mom’s eyes widened. For a second she looked genuinely shocked that I was talking back. Then her face crumpled.
"You think I enjoy this?” Her voice cracked completely. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “You think I like lying to you? Keeping secrets? I’m trying to protect you, Abigail! There are things happening in this community — dangerous things — and you’re too young, too innocent to understand how ugly it can get.”
"Why're dangerous things suddenly happening here?"
More tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to hold them back, but they spilled over anyway. She covered her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking as she cried harder.
“I’ve already lost so much,” she whispered through her tears. “I can’t lose you too. Please… just listen to me. Stay close. Stay safe. That’s all I’m asking.”
Seeing her break down like that shattered me. I had never seen Mom cry like this — not since Dad left when I was little. Guilt crashed over me like a wave.
“Mum… I’m sorry,” I stepped forward, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just...”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
A loud, aggressive knock echoed through the house, cutting me off.
We both froze.
The knocking came again — harder, ruder, impatient. Like whoever was outside wasn’t going to wait.
Mom’s face went deathly pale. She grabbed my arm tightly and pulled me behind her, staring at the door like it was a monster about to break in.
“Who is that?” I whispered, fear crawling up my spine.
Mom didn’t answer. She just held me tighter, her body trembling as she stared at the door like it was about to open and swallow us both.
The knocking continued, louder, fiercer and more demanding.