ONE NIGHT IN THE CABIN HOUSE (Completed and NOW Edited!!...)

17

May 20, 1692

Sabrina and Marylou arrived in Reshforf City and spoke with a cab driver who recommended an inn for their stay. "It's the only suitable place around for people of your status," he mentioned. The other establishments were motels, notorious for late-night rendezvous.

As they drove, Marylou glanced at Sabrina, who was wearing sunglasses and a pink cap. She recalled how furious Sabrina had been after discovering that she'd gone to Fernando's house. Sabrina had found a large bag hidden under the bed and questioned her about it. Marylou had managed to keep it hidden for over a week.

Sabrina had also noticed changes in Marylou's wardrobe, especially items she hadn't gifted her, which triggered her search through the room. On that day, Sabrina had demanded the truth, asking where Marylou got the sunglasses and jacket. Her fury culminated in yanking the TV plug from the wall and kicking over the coffee table. Marylou could still hardly believe how violent Sabrina had become in that moment. Later, Sabrina confessed that she often destroyed things when angry and revealed the scar on her neck, admitting she had inflicted it on herself. The revelation shocked Marylou. It was hard to imagine what could drive someone to that level of pain. She suspected Sabrina was hiding something deeper, but she never pried.

Sabrina had found out about the bag but not the credit cards. Marylou had been careful to keep them concealed.

"You know, I'm surprised you continue to help me, especially since I haven't paid you a cent," Marylou broke the silence. Sabrina turned to her, seeming to consider how to respond.

"We signed a loan," she finally replied, and Marylou thought of the document tucked away in her cupboard. She swallowed the anger rising in her throat. "I don't have any money," her voice faltered, so she quickly added, "I wish I did."

"You'll have to work to pay me," Sabrina stated matter-of-factly, and Marylou fell silent.

The car stopped in front of a tall building. Marylou watched people entering the hotel with bags smaller than theirs. Sabrina was the first to step out, handing the driver some cash.

They carried their bags into the building, where a man in a hat eyed them suspiciously. He demanded to see proof of residency after Sabrina explained they had just relocated. Reshforf was an old city, and it puzzled the innkeeper why anyone would move there. Sabrina provided her papers and identification, showing her home address in Bandoos. She hadn't anticipated the man's scrutiny; otherwise, she would've prepared something for Marylou.

When Marylou couldn't provide her own documents, the innkeeper refused her a room, sharing a story about how he once unknowingly housed a wanted criminal. Since then, he had stopped accepting travelers without proper records. Sabrina restrained her irritation as she listened to him. She was about to think of another plan for Marylou when the man offered, "I have a cabin. You can stay there for now."

The offer piqued Sabrina's interest. "Thank you. We'd like to see it."

"I'll take you there myself. Is she your family?" the man asked, glancing between the two women.

"Yes, we're relatives," Sabrina lied smoothly.

The innkeeper introduced himself as Georgetown Boswell. After brief introductions, Sabrina paid the bill and was shown to her room. Satisfied with the space, she changed into something casual and found Marylou talking to Georgetown in the waiting area.

"We're ready," Sabrina said, approaching them. The innkeeper stroked his overgrown beard, eyeing her with a smile.

"Let's go. I'll take you both in my truck," Georgetown announced. As they reached the house, the wind tousled their hair, and Georgetown stood in front of the wooden structure with a nostalgic look in his eyes.

"Are you okay, Georgetown?" Marylou asked, noticing the tears welling up in his eyes.

"Memories," he replied with a sniffle. "I haven't been here in years. This place reminds me of my parents. They died 30 years ago, and I've felt guilty for not returning."

"What killed them?" Sabrina asked.

"My father had a heart attack. My mother followed two weeks later—she couldn't live without him," Georgetown said softly. "They were old, but I wanted them to live forever."

Sabrina remained quiet, clearly uneasy as Georgetown shared his past. Soon after, he left the women alone in the cabin, but not before exchanging a final, cryptic glance with Sabrina.

June 4, 1692

Two weeks had passed. Marylou had successfully acquired everything needed for her flight to Africa. Her plan was nearly complete. She imagined the life of freedom that awaited her. Suddenly, three knocks interrupted her thoughts. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see Sabrina standing there.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," Marylou said.

"Do I need to?" Sabrina responded, stepping inside.

"I found you a job," Sabrina continued after a moment, "Catering at a gambling house. It pays well."

Marylou was caught off guard. "Why didn't you just call me about this?"

"I wanted to tell you in person," Sabrina replied tersely, sitting on the bed. She then spotted something—Marylou's flight papers. Her expression darkened. "What is this, Marylou?" she demanded, holding up the papers. "You were planning on running away?"

Marylou's heart sank. Sabrina tore the papers apart, and Marylou felt her stomach churn.

"I want my money tomorrow," Sabrina warned, her voice cold. "Or you'll beg for death."

June 5, 1692

The next day, Marylou paced the cabin in panic. She had hidden the credit cards but knew that running wasn't an option. Suddenly, the door burst open. A man, rough and imposing, grabbed her by the neck and demanded, "Where's the money?"

Sabrina appeared behind him, her eyes filled with fury. Marylou knew she was in deep trouble. She tried to plead but Sabrina wouldn't listen. "You thought you could run without paying me?"

"I don't have your money!" Marylou cried, trembling as the man dragged her into the smaller room.

Sabrina stared down at her. "I know more than you think, Marylou. I know about Fernando, and I know you were planning on escaping to Africa."

Marylou's mind raced. Should she reveal what she knew? Sabrina's secret? The kidnapping, the murder of Bianca Lawson? It would be risky, but maybe it would buy her time.

"You're not the only one with secrets," Marylou said through gritted teeth. "I know about Bianca. The scar on your neck—it wasn't self-inflicted, was it? She fought back, didn't she?"

Sabrina's eyes widened, and for a moment, Marylou thought she'd gained the upper hand. But Sabrina's expression shifted to one of cold determination. "You've said too much."

Marylou never saw the blow coming. The man silenced her screams, and when they were finished, Sabrina wiped her hands clean, leaving Marylou's lifeless body on the floor.

Present Day

Gracia gasped, pulling away from the visions she'd seen. The story of Marylou's life had played out before her eyes like a vivid documentary. Her heart ached for the woman who had been victimized at every turn.

"What a tragic life," Gracia murmured. Marylou had deserved better—much better.

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