Silver Tears(73)

The smell of damp was stronger the farther down she went.

Once at the bottom, Faye managed to locate the fuse box, and she flicked the main circuit breaker. Using the flashlight, she found new fuses and managed to replace the blown one. When she turned the power back on, the ceiling light came on. She checked her watch and quickly went back upstairs. In the living room, she selected a lamp.

Faye pulled the cord out of the socket in the wall. She quickly unscrewed the plug and made the necessary adjustments using the screwdriver she had brought. Just like in the video she had watched. You could find everything on the internet, if you knew where to look.

She got out the steel wire and wrapped it around the front door handle. Loop after loop. Tightly. Then, from the 1.5-liter bottle she’d brought with her, she poured water onto the top step. It formed a small, shallow puddle.



It wouldn’t be noticeable in the dark.

By the time she was done, she had been in the house for forty minutes. She turned off the light, sat down on the sofa, and waited in the darkness. She kept an eye on the illuminated figures on her watch, squeezing the screwdriver in her hand. Jack wouldn’t turn up unarmed, and if something went wrong she would have to defend herself against him.

Fight for her life.

Perhaps she would die. But she intended to die free—not as a hunted, terrified animal.

Exactly nine minutes later, she heard the rumble of a car engine.





The rumble of the engine died away and silence descended. Faye got to her feet. She carefully took off her shoes, left them on the sofa, and crept to the lamp she had positioned beside the door. She plugged it in and glanced nervously at the door handle.

She sank down to the floor with her back to the wall.

She could hear footsteps outside the cabin. She licked her lips. She felt her nerves tingling, a fluttering in her stomach. Beyond the walls, Jack was tramping about. What if he didn’t pick the front door but went through a window? Or via the basement?

But why would he do that? He knew she was waiting for him. He thought Nora was in the house and in mortal danger.

“Faye,” Jack called out. “I want my daughter.”

She saw his silhouette outside the window and pressed herself closer against the wall. He couldn’t see her. The next second, he switched on a flashlight and directed it through the window. The beam of light passed inches away from her right foot. She stopped breathing. Did he suspect anything? Was that why he was circling around the house?

She pictured him out there. Once upon a time she had loved him more than anything, perhaps even more than she loved Julienne. Now she just wanted to destroy him for what he had done to their daughter, and for the humiliation he had heaped on Faye. For all the women who had been in her place, suppressed, feeling worthless, who had taken their lives, been deprived of their dignity. Who had been kept as serfs. Exploited. Women who were still shackled, even if the appearance of those shackles had changed over the centuries.



Faye was going to strike back.

She wasn’t going to be a statistic, one more woman killed by her husband or ex.

“Come out now,” he called out. “If you’ve hurt her, I’ll kill you, Faye.”

She heard the suppressed rage. The voice was behind her now, close by, on the other side of the wall. That meant he was heading for the front door.

Faye swallowed.

“She’s here.” Her throat felt tight, her voice hoarse. “In here.”

Jack shifted his weight from foot to foot on the steps outside. He didn’t seem to be able to make up his mind about what to do. He was scared. He knew what she was capable of. That she was smarter than him. That she was dangerous. And that he was the one who made her dangerous.

“Bring her out,” he shouted.

Faye didn’t reply. She gritted her teeth and screwed her eyes tight shut. She didn’t want to do too much to tempt him in case it made him suspicious.

“Do it,” she whispered. “Do it.”

The footsteps had stopped. He was probably standing still on the steps, two feet or so away. She could feel his presence, his hesitation, his fear.

Her legs trembled with anxiety. Faye dug her nails into the palm of her hand.

“Touch the handle, Jack,” she murmured. “Open the door. I’m right here waiting for you.”

A second later she heard a sizzling sound.

She smiled and opened her eyes.

“One, two, three,” she counted before reaching out and turning off the light.

She heard a heavy thud on the other side of the door. She got up slowly, sniffing the air. There was a burnt smell seeping in from outside.





Faye slowly opened the door, but it soon jammed because Jack’s body was lying in the way. She saw his legs through the crack in the door. He had fallen backward. She kept pushing and eventually made enough of an opening that she could squeeze through the gap.

She bent down and examined his face. His eyes were wide open. Empty. She leaned forward and put two fingers to his neck. There was no pulse.

She looked at the man she had once loved more than anything else on earth and tried to understand what she felt.

The forest loomed before her like a wall around the house, shutting out the world.

The silence was dense.

It was as if they were in another dimension—where there were only Faye and Jack.