DON'T CHEAT ON ME!

Chapter 30: Failed.

Patricia's POV

My legs are weak, trembling with exhaustion, but I force myself to run, stumbling out of the secret room with the farmer. The air outside the room feels thinner, lighter, like I’ve broken through a suffocating barrier, but the fear still clings to me like a second skin.

“Come on!”

I whisper, my voice hoarse and trembling.

“We have to go!”

The farmer doesn’t respond, of course. He can’t. His tongueless mouth makes it impossible for him to speak, but his wide, frantic eyes and hurried movements are enough to tell me he understands. His gnarled hand grabs my arm, guiding me through the narrow corridor outside the secret room, his grip firm but not harsh.

The farmer doesn’t respond, of course. He can’t. His tongueless mouth makes it impossible for him to speak, but his wide, frantic eyes and hurried movements are enough to tell me he understands. His gnarled hand grabs my arm, guiding me through the narrow corridor outside the secret room, his grip firm but not harsh.

I don’t know how he ended up here, in that state, or why he decided to help me, but I’m not questioning it. I can’t afford to. All I know is that he’s my only hope right now, and I have to trust him.

The house is dark and eerily quiet, every creak of the floorboards under our feet magnified in the silence. My heart is racing, pounding in my chest like a drumbeat of panic. I glance over my shoulder, expecting to see Jordan’s shadow looming behind us, his cold, predatory eyes locking onto mine.

But he’s not there. Not yet.

The farmer pulls me forward, his urgency unspoken but clear. His eyes flicker toward the stairs at the end of the hallway, and I realize he’s leading me toward the forest. Toward freedom.

As we reach the stairs, I can’t help but whisper,

“Thank you… for helping me. I—I don’t know why you’re here, but thank you.”

He grunts in response, a guttural sound that’s half acknowledgment, half urgency. He waves his free hand in a frantic motion, urging me to move faster.

We descend the stairs, every step creaking beneath us. I wince at the noise, biting my lip to keep from crying out. It feels like every sound is an alarm, signaling to Jordan that we’re trying to escape.

When we reach the bottom, the farmer pauses, his head snapping toward the front door. His breathing is shallow and ragged, and I can feel his tension radiating off him like heat. He points to the door, then to himself, then back to me, his movements quick and deliberate.

“You want me to go first?”

I whisper, my voice shaking.

He shakes his head violently, gesturing for me to stay close behind him. He’s going to lead the way.

I nod, swallowing hard.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll follow you.”

The door groans as he pushes it open, the sound echoing in the stillness of the house. I hold my breath, every muscle in my body taut as I wait for something—anything—to happen. But the house remains silent.

The farmer steps outside, pulling me with him. The cool night air hits my face, sharp and biting, but I don’t care. I’m out. I’m free.

Or so I think.

As we step onto the porch, I hear it—the faint sound of movement behind us. A shuffling noise, like someone dragging their feet across the floor. My blood turns to ice.