Chapter 8 - The Escape from Lake Forest
The standoff in the hallway was razor-sharp.
Michael stood five feet from the massive front entrance of the mansion, his coat draped over the hidden rabbit, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He looked at Marcus’s extended hand—large, powerful, and unyielding.
Michael knew that if he handed the rabbit to Marcus right now, he would lose whatever evidence was hidden inside forever. More than that, Marcus would immediately realize that Sophia had given it away, and the consequences for the five-year-old girl upstairs would be catastrophic.
Michael took a subtle step backward, reaching behind his waist with his free hand until his fingers wrapped around the heavy brass handle of the front door.
"It’s fine, Marcus," Michael said smoothly, keeping his voice light and unbothered. "I’ll bring it back when I come visit next weekend. It’ll give me an excuse to come check on her."
Marcus’s eyes hardened into icy slits. He took two fast, aggressive steps forward. "I said give me the toy, Michael."
Without another word, Michael yanked the heavy front door open.
A gust of freezing winter air and swirling snow rushed into the warm hallway, blowing the pine garlands on the entry table and sending a draft straight down the corridor.
Michael stepped backward out onto the stone porch, instantly pulling the heavy oak door shut between them. He heard the sharp latch click into place just as Marcus reached the handle from the inside.
Michael didn't run, but he moved with fast, purposeful strides across the icy porch and down the snow-covered stone steps toward his dark SUV parked in the driveway. The wind howled through the tall oak trees, blowing snow across his face, but he barely felt the cold.
He unlocked his vehicle, jumped into the driver's seat, pulled the door shut, and immediately locked all four doors.
Through the high glass windows of the mansion’s front foyer, Michael saw the front door fly open. Marcus stepped out onto the porch, framed by the bright interior light, his dark shirt standing out starkly against the white snow. Marcus didn't come down the steps; he simply stood on the porch, his face illuminated by the exterior sconces, staring down at Michael’s SUV with an expression of pure, murderous rage.
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Michael started the engine. The powerful V8 roared to life, headlights cutting through the swirling snowfall, illuminating the long, dark driveway leading out of the Lake Forest estate.
Michael placed the stuffed rabbit on the passenger seat beside him, threw the vehicle into drive, and accelerated down the icy path, leaving his brother’s house behind in the freezing darkness.
