It was Silvio.

His face was covered in soot, and a long cut ran down his temple, but his eyes were fierce.

They rolled in the mud, struggling for control of the weapon.

I didn’t wait to see who won.

I turned and ran into the woods, the branches scratching at my arms as I fled deeper into the darkness.

The rain washed the dirt from my face, but it did nothing to cool the panic burning in my chest.

I had to get to the lake.

The cottage was only a mile away through these woods, if my mother’s map was correct.

Behind me, another gunshot echoed through the trees, sharp and final.

I didn’t look back.

I kept running, my breath coming in ragged gasps, the babies heavy in my arms.

The ground beneath my feet grew steeper, sloping down toward the dark water of the lake.

I could see the faint outline of the shoreline through the trees.

Then, the sound of a twig snapping behind me made me freeze.

I stopped under the shelter of a massive pine tree, holding my breath.