their daughter about the farm.

With frazzled nerves, Deborah watched through the window as her husband frantically paced outside. Then, needing a distraction, she busied herself at the stove while Sibley helped cut up vegetables.

As Jonathan stomped toward the house, Deborah told Sibley to go upstairs. Sibley gave her a questioning glance but didn’t argue, as if she could sense the strain.

Deborah was hit with a cloud of smoke as soon as the squeak of the door signaled Jonathan’s presence.

Her hand trembled around the spoon, but she didn’t turn around to face him.

In a conversational tone, he addressed her back. “I heard some interesting news today.”

Stirring the pot on the burner, Deborah didn’t reply.

As Jonathan’s footsteps approached her, her natural reaction was to hunch her shoulders. She never needed to make eye contact to tell what kind of a mood he was in. It was obvious from the heaviness of his footfalls.

This afternoon, they were forceful, a shift from the casual strut this morning. Her husband was a crouched tiger ready to pounce.

As a preview of his temper, he rewarded her with a jab between her shoulder blades.

Wincing, she didn’t react.

“Don’t you wanna know what I found out today?”

“I don’t have an interest in gossip.” Irritated at these stupid games he liked to play, Deborah was tired of feeling like a helpless rabbit ensnared in a trap while he dangled a carrot in front of her, hoping she’d try to bite back so he could justify his anger.

“Even if it’s about you?” Jonathan sneered. “And your daughter?”

The timer on the stove beeped.

Deborah watched a tear evaporate in the gravy pan.

“I talked to Cindy,” he said. “You know, Robert’s wife.”

“Okay.” She shrugged noncommittally.

“She and I had the nicest little chat.” The way he said “chat” made her insides churn, and she knew far worse was coming. “Apparently, Cindy and I are the last to know.”

Deborah didn’t respond, which evidently wasn’t the reaction Jonathan wanted, so he slammed his palm against her lower back, causing her to lurch forward.

Gritting her teeth, she said, “I’m not following.”

“Is that so?” Jonathan’s body shifted to check that Sibley was out of sight. “Cindy filled me in on secrets you’ve been sharing with her husband. Since the two of you are sleeping together, she said you’ve been telling her husband many things you haven’t bothered to tell me.” He pointed upstairs, hissing under his breath, “Like that girl up there I’ve been raising ain’t really mine.” Yanking Deborah away from the stove, he pushed her into a far corner.

Gripping her elbow roughly, he ordered her outside to the barn, his words menacing. When she didn’t move, he honored her with a sharp kick to the ankles.

“Come on, Jonathan, I made a nice meal. We’re about to sit down to—”

A sudden slap across her cheek caused her to flinch. “Don’t you dare say a word, you filthy whore.”

She lowered her stinging face, her vision blurring as she stared at the linoleum.

“Hurry up and get out there.” Jonathan shoved her toward the door. “I’ll tell Sibley to finish the potatoes.”

Jonathan hollered for Sibley, but she didn’t answer.

His footsteps hurried up the stairs, and Deborah was terrified, sure he was going to lose his temper on her.

The vent to Sibley’s room was above the kitchen, and Deborah could hear her murmur something about having headphones on. Jonathan’s tone had fortunately returned to normal, the anger boiling underneath the surface. It was his next statement that made her stomach bubble with acid. “Honey, if we’re not back in fifteen minutes, come out and check on us. I might need help with the cleanup.”

Fleeing for the barn, Deborah didn’t wait for Sibley’s reply.

She stumbled outside, half running as she reached the imposing structure. She climbed into the loft, where an old sleeping bag was shoved out of sight on a rafter, and unrolled the fabric. Inside, Deborah had ripped an opening she could use as a secret compartment.

She reached in to yank out the bulky cell phone, which weighed as much as a brick, since seventeen years ago, they were still in their infancy. Cell phones hadn’t replaced landlines or become a necessity at this point, and it wasn’t like Jonathan would let her have one.

Fingers quivering, she powered it on, praying it would work. She was still wary of its reliability, as out here, this relatively new technology and lack of cell towers often proved problematic.

During her earlier drill, Deborah had been instructed to find where she would have the best reception, and unfortunately, it wasn’t the barn.

Knowing Jonathan would be looking for her at any minute, she sneaked toward the toolshed next to the house. She didn’t want to bring Jonathan’s wrath anywhere near Sibley, since her job was to protect her daughter.

The first call rang once and then dropped.

When she spied Jonathan stomping out to the barn on a rampage, she crouched down. His fist was curled around something, but she didn’t know what it was. Unable to control her shaking legs, she watched him with wild, unfocused eyes.

The cell rang a second time in her trembling hand. Impatiently she whispered, “Pick up, please pick up.”

Tears of joy streamed down her face when the ringing was replaced by heavy breathing. “I’m ready,” she choked out. Nothing more needed to be said.

Powering the phone down, she commanded herself, You can do this. He deserves every bit of what’s coming to him. Stay strong, Deborah Lee, stay strong.

Standing up, she buried the phone in the burn pile, where they got rid of sticks and litter, as it was now a liability to be disposed of.

She exhaled a ragged breath as she watched it disappear under a pile of garbage. Deborah was starting to turn when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a shadow’s outline.

Sibley stood stock still, peering through the window in her bedroom.

How much had she seen?

Deborah went as far as gesturing with her hand for Sibley to get away from the window, but she didn’t move.

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