The pain flared in my ribs, but the adrenaline kept me moving.

Nathan was leaning out of the doorway, his face twisted in anger.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he hissed, trying to drag me back inside. “You’re going to ruin everything I built.”

I kicked back with my free leg, my heel striking his shoulder.

He lost his grip, and I scrambled backward across the wet wood.

I grabbed Lily’s hand again.

We ran down the stairs of the deck and onto the grass.

The backyard was pitch black, bounded by a thick line of pine trees.

Behind us, the lights in the kitchen flared on.

Nathan stood on the deck, his silhouette sharp against the bright interior.

He didn’t run after us into the yard.

He knew the neighborhood layout as well as I did.

He was likely heading back to the front to cut us off in his car.

“This way,” I whispered to Lily, guiding her toward the gap in the wooden fence that led to the Millers’ yard.

Our neighbors, the Millers, were retired and kept their back porch light on.