The Wedding Party

Part 48: A Harpoon

Darrell's breath fogged the cold night air as he paced the grounds of the Manor, the crisp sound of his footsteps echoing in the darkness. He gripped his phone tightly, the attorney's voice crackling through the speaker.

"Look, I don't want to talk to Macey anymore," Darrell said, his voice strained. "You handle her questions from now on."

"Understood, Mr. Wilson," the attorney replied. "I'll take care of it."

As he rounded a corner, the soft glow of lamplight caught his eye. Through the window, he saw Amelia, his adoptive daughter, shuffling a deck of cards with practiced ease. A pang of guilt twisted in his chest, knowing she didn't deserve to be caught up in this mess.

"Listen," he told the attorney, "I need you to make sure Amelia is—"

A sudden, searing pain tore through Darrell's chest, cutting off his words. His eyes widened in shock as he looked down at the harpoon impaling him. The phone fell from his grasp, forgotten, as he struggled to breathe.

"Amelia!" he gasped, his vision blurring.

For a moment, it seemed like she was looking right at him, her dark eyes filled with confusion. Then, just as suddenly, Darrell was yanked backward, the world fading around him.

Inside the manor, Amelia stared at her reflection in the glass, her brow furrowed as she rubbed her cheek. Had she imagined seeing her father outside? She shook her head, trying to focus on the game before her.

Meanwhile, Ash sprinted through the woods, branches whipping at her face and snagging her clothes. Her lungs burned with each breath, but she refused to slow down. She couldn't let herself be caught.

At last, she reached the makeshift shack hidden among the trees. Desperation fueled her as she pounded on the door, praying for an answer.

"Marc!" she shouted. "Open up!"

The door creaked open, revealing Marc's worried face. He glanced at Ash's disheveled state before stepping aside to let her in.

"Quick," he urged, scanning the darkness behind her. "Get inside."

Ash stumbled past him, her heart still pounding. As the door clicked shut behind her, she knew that whatever safety she'd found here was fleeting. The nightmare was far from over, and the truth felt like a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode.