The Lock In

The keypad blinked red. Access Denied.

Elena shivered in the towel she'd managed to find in the pool house changing room. She had dragged herself and Leo out of the freezing lake, shivering and gasping, and now they were locked inside the one place she thought might be safe—the maintenance shed near the north gate. But her code, the one she had used for five years, was dead.

She clutched Leo tighter. He was crying, a thin, rattling sound that tore at her heart. He was wet, cold, and traumatized.

"I know, baby," she whispered, her teeth chattering. "I know."

She tried the keypad again. *0422*. Marcus's birthday.

*Red.*

She tried Seraphina's. *1012*.

*Red.*

She leaned her forehead against the cold metal door. They were trapped on the estate. The walls were twelve feet high, topped with sensors. The gates were locked. And somewhere out there, in the snow and the dark, Seraphina was hunting them.

And Marcus was dead.

The image of him falling into the black pit replayed in her mind like a corrupted video loop. The sound of his neck snapping. The silence.

She had killed him.

It didn't matter that it was self-defense. It didn't matter that he was a monster. She had killed the father of her child.

Or the man who claimed to be.

"Focus," she told herself.

She looked around the shed. It was filled with gardening equipment. Lawnmowers. Leaf blowers. Gas cans.

And a radio.

An old, battered walkie-talkie sitting on a dusty shelf.

She picked it up. It crackled with static.

"Security to North Gate. Report."

A guard's voice. Bored. Routine.

"North Gate clear," another voice responded.

"Main house is secure. Mrs. Hawthorne is asking about the perimeter check."

"Perimeter is clear. No sign of the intruder."

They didn't know about Marcus. Seraphina hadn't told them. She was handling this herself. She wanted Elena dead, not arrested.

Elena looked at the radio. If she spoke, they would triangulate her signal. But if she listened...

"Switch to channel 4," the first guard said.

Elena turned the dial.

Static. Then, a voice she recognized.

"Is it done?"

Eleanor.

"Not yet," Seraphina's voice replied. Breathless. Angry. "She went into the lake. I lost her."

"Find her," Eleanor said. "Before the police arrive. I called them about the... accident."

"What accident?"

"Marcus," Eleanor said. "He fell. Tragic. He was chasing his mentally unstable wife who had kidnapped his son. She pushed him."

Elena's grip on the radio tightened until her knuckles turned white. They were already rewriting the story. Marcus wasn't a victim of his own trap. He was a martyr. And Elena was the murderer.

"I need the codes," Seraphina said. "She locked the north gate maintenance shed. I can see wet footprints leading to it."

"The master code," Eleanor said. "It's 1985."

The year Seraphina was born.

Elena dropped the radio.

She turned to the keypad.

*1-9-8-5.*

*Green.*

The lock clicked.

Elena pushed the door open. But she didn't step out.

She stepped back.

Because if Seraphina was coming to the shed, then the shed wasn't a refuge.

It was a trap.

She looked at the gas cans. At the lawnmower. At the fertilizer stacked in the corner.

Ammonium nitrate.

She grabbed a rag from the workbench. She stuffed it into the neck of a gas can.

She placed the can right in front of the door.

She picked up a shovel.

She retreated to the back of the shed, hiding behind a tractor, shielding Leo with her body.

Footsteps crunched in the snow outside.

"Elena?" Seraphina's voice. Sweet. mocking. "I know you're in there. Open the door, and I'll make it quick."

Elena didn't answer. She held the Zippo she still had in her pocket. The one Kai had given her.

The door handle turned.

"Have it your way," Seraphina said.

The door swung open.

Seraphina stepped into the doorway, the hunting knife glinting in her hand.

She saw the gas can.

She saw the rag.

She saw the lighter in Elena's hand.

"Don't," Seraphina whispered.

Elena flicked the wheel.

The flame sparked.

She threw the lighter.