Chapter 38

Chapter 38
THE GHOST IN THE CABIN

Point of View: Luna Hart

As Ms. Linda enters the room with her knife gleaming in the moonlight, my pulse beats like a drum. She doesn't seem like the kind nanny I remember—her face is pallid, and her eyes are sad yet piercing. My stomach twists so painfully when the door snaps shut behind her. I have both of my dad's keys in my pocket, both of which have bird markings on them. I can still hear the message on my phone: Two keys, Luna. You're near. However, I am as well. My secrets are out, and I'm Luna Hart, the missing girl from Hart Global. Aunt Clara and Lily have been apprehended after Mia deceived me, but now Ms. Linda, who my mother said was deceased, is here with a knife. Mr. Cole is downstairs, my mom is sleeping next door, and the black dog, still weak from its injuries, is near my bed.

"Ms. Linda?" I mumble, my voice trembling, backing up against the wall. The keys in my pocket are heavy, and my hands tremble. "You shouldn't be present."

With a steady knife and an incorrect grin, she takes a step closer. "Luna," she adds in a quiet but eerie voice. "I never abandoned you."

Tears hurt my eyes and tighten my throat. I respond in a low voice, "Mom said you died."

Her eyes shine as she shakes her head. "Your mother told lies. to protect you. But now is the moment.

"What is the time for?" With shaky legs, I inquire. The dog is too feeble to stand, yet it whines with its ears erect.

Ms. Linda lowers her knife slightly as she kneels in front of me. "The reality, Luna. Concerning Hart Global. about your father.

My heart is pounding as I shake my head. "You're frightening me."

For a moment, her expression is forlorn as she sighs. "I'd prefer not to. However, the keys are in your possession. They let everything in.

The keys are pressed against my calf as I grip my pocket. "What do they open?" My voice cracks as I ask.

Her knife gleams once more as she rises. "Something significant. Something your father concealed.

Footsteps beat outside before I can yell. My mother cries, "Luna!" as she bursts through the door. When she sees Ms. Linda, her eyes enlarge. Her face is pallid as she murmurs, "No." "You've passed away."

With her knife up, Ms. Linda turns. "You deceived her, Sarah," she replies sternly. "You kept me hidden."

My mother snatches my arm and drags me after her. She adds, "Stay away," in a firm yet trembling voice.

With its fangs bared, the dog snarls and limps ahead. With her knife trembling, Ms. Linda takes a step back. She says, "Don't make this difficult."

As Mr. Cole enters, Ms. Linda's face is struck by the glare of his flashlight. "Stop it!" he yells, raising his voice. He is poised to swing a stick.

Ms. Linda gives a brief, cruel chuckle. As she backs toward the glass, she adds, "You can't stop it." "The boss is aware."

My stomach turns around. Once again, the boss? "Who is in charge?" My voice is loud as I shout.

Her eyes are sorrowful once again when she stares at me. She responds, "You'll see," and then uses her elbow to break the window, sending glass flying. She leaps out and vanishes into the darkness.

My mother gives me a firm embrace while breathing rapidly. She checks my face with her hands and says, "Are you okay?"

I nod while crying. With my hands still on the keys, I mumble, "Yeah." The dog, laying down with its side heaving, whines.

Mr. Cole's expression is grim as he locks the window. He grabs our stuff and declares, "We're leaving." "She will return."

My hands are shaking as we pack quickly. My mother assists the dog by tightening its bandage. "Well done," she murmurs, stroking its head. With the stars blazing above and the night chilly, we dash to the vehicle. The route winds through hills, and Mr. Cole drives quickly. My mother's quivering, warm fingers grip my hand.

"Why is Ms. Linda still living?" I inquire in a low voice.

My mother's face becomes pale and her eyes grow watery. She claims, "I thought she died." “She disappeared after your dad. I assumed it was finished.

My throat tightens as I nod. "She is aware of the keys."

Mr. Cole narrows his gaze and looks back. He wonders, "What do they open?"

My mother gives a headshake. "A safe. The mystery of your father. Something hazardous.

Thinking about Ms. Linda's knife and her dejected eyes makes my stomach ache. Was she terrible all the time? The road is dark and the automobile is silent as we travel for hours. The warmth of the dog next to me soothes my gut a bit as my eyelids drop. In my dream, I saw Ms. Linda's face, the keys, and a large door that I am unable to open.

As dawn breaks, the light peeks through the clouds. We stopped at a restaurant with a rusting sign. Pancakes, which my mom orders, have a delicious yet overpowering fragrance. With my stomach still twisted, I prod mine with a fork. Mr. Cole uses his phone to speak softly to a buddy who works in law enforcement. He ends the call by saying, "Find her."

"Ms. Linda?" I inquire in a low voice.

His expression is solemn as he nods. "And anybody who is with her."

The pancakes are tender in my tongue as we eat in silence. My mother's eyes are troubled, yet she grins. We go to a park with moist grass after breakfast. The dog lies close to me, its tail dragging, as I swing on a swing. My mother laughs softly as she pushes me. I forget the terrifying parts for a while.

Then I see a shadow observing from the woods. My heart leaps. "Mom!" I point while whispering.

Her face is pallid as she seems. With his hand on his phone, Mr. Cole takes a step forward. The shadow shifts and enters the light. It's a tall, gray-haired guy wearing a coat; it's not Ms. Linda. He has a sparkling bird-mark key in his hand, precisely like mine.

"Luna," he adds in a soothing but eerie tone. "Your grandfather is me."

My mother puts her palm to her lips as she gasps. "No," she mumbles. "You've left."

His eyes are keen as he grins. "Not gone. Awaiting.

My heart is pounding as I shake my head. Grandfather? According to my mom, dad passed away before I was born. Mr. Cole speaks sternly as he advances. "Remain back."

With a giggle, the guy holds out the key. "It is unstoppable," he asserts. "I own the vault."

My hands are shaking, and my stomach aches. One more key? Safe? My mother pulls me to the vehicle as we back up. Slowly and with an incorrect grin, the guy follows. The dog stands unsteadily and growls.

Mr. Cole is driving quickly as we get inside the automobile. The guy is followed by a brightly lit automobile. My mother's breath is quick when she hugs me. "He's not my father," she mumbles. "He can't be."

I hold my keys and nod. Now there are three: his, mine, and the shadow's. What's kept in the safe? The man's automobile is near as we rush through the town. The tires squeal as Mr. Cole turns abruptly. The dog rests its head on my lap and whines.

We stayed at a different hotel after losing the vehicle in a tangle of streets. With a kind kiss, my mother tucks me in. She adds in a tremulous voice, "Sleep."

While I nod, my gaze remains fixed on the window. I have a lot of questions about the vault and the keys are heavy in my pocket. Sleep comes slowly, with nightmares of shadows and doors.

I'm awakened by a gentle click at the door. My heart leaps. The room is dark as I sit up. Slowly, the door opens, and a little, silent person enters. It's neither the grandfather nor Ms. Linda. A girl my age is carrying a key with a bird mark on it; her face is similar to mine.

With wide eyes, she says, "Luna." "Your sister is me."

My heart stops. Sister? Before I can say anything, t
he hotel trembles with a thunderous bang, the window bursts, and a shadowy figure climbs through.