“The side door is clear,” Blake whispered, turning his head toward us.

“We need to go through the alley,” I said.

A flashlight beam swept across the living room window from the front porch.

We moved quickly through the pantry and out the narrow side door into the cold night air.

The gravel crunched softly under our feet as we hurried toward the back gate.

A dark SUV was idling at the end of the alley, its headlights turned off.

“Whose car is that?” I asked, stopping the boys behind me.

“Mine,” Blake said, pulling a set of keys from his pocket.

“You said your phone was dead,” I said, looking at him with suspicion.

“It is,” he said. “The car doesn’t run on my phone.”

He unlocked the doors with a soft click, and the interior light flickered on for a brief second.

“Get in, quickly,” Blake said, opening the door for Clara and the boys.

They scrambled into the back seats, and Clara climbed in after them.

I hesitated, looking back at the dark shape of my house.