I sat on the couch, thinking about how to tell Stephen. The last thing I wanted was for a man to look down on me; I couldn't bear that between Stephen and me. Morning had already come, so I went straight to the bathroom to get ready. That was the fastest I had ever bathed — thirty minutes, and I was dressed in a casual sundress.
"Good morning, Aunt Grace," I called as I came down the stairs, but there was no answer. I called again; still nothing. Who was in the kitchen? My feet went cold, but I tiptoed toward the door.
My scream tore out of me when I saw him. My father stood in the doorway, a knife in his hand, blood spattered across his face and clothes. Aunt Grace lay on the floor, motionless. I collapsed to my knees.
"How could you?" I cried. "Aunt Grace, please wake up. Please!"
"Anyone who stands in my way of getting you married will end like this," he said, his voice flat with terrible pride.
"Hills!" my mother shouted from behind me. "How can you do this in front of a child? Grace was my best friend. Why?" she sobbed.
"She wouldn't tell me what you three discussed last night. I employed her — she owed me loyalty," he answered, almost casually.
I was so stunned and in so much pain that I didn't know what to do. My father continued, cold and sharp: "Someone will come clean this up. Kendra, prepare — your husband is coming today. I have to speed things up; I don't know what stupid plan is in your head, especially you and your mother."
My mother held me, trying to steady me. "Can you two stop acting like fools?" my father barked, and she hauled me back inside.
Once we were inside, I sobbed, "What are we going to do, Mom?"
"Kendra, pack a bag — a few clothes and whatever you need. We have to leave this house," she said, eyes fierce.
"What about you? How will you pack? Dad is in the room!" I whispered.
"My things are in your wardrobe," she said calmly. I wanted to ask more, but she cut me off. "Save your questions for later. Get moving — we need to get out of here."
She pulled a heavy bag from behind the door, full of cash and gold bars. There wasn't time to be impressed. I grabbed a few clothes, my phone and charger, my laptop, and the necklace Aunt Grace had given me. I saw a small box with my name on it — did Aunt Grace leave it last night? — and shoved it into my bag.
"Mom, I'm ready. Let's go," I said.
"To where? Do you think your father hasn't guarded every exit? We can't use the front," she replied. Then, without hesitation, she locked the door and opened the window. She unwound a length of rope from her bag and tossed it down into the garden.
"This woman came prepared," I thought.
"What about the security guards?" I asked.
"I dosed them with sleeping pills. They won't wake for at least twenty minutes. Hurry," she said.
When she checked the rope and nodded, she told me to go first. "Kendra, down — now."
"What about you?" I whispered, terror squeezing my chest.
"Baby, calm down. I'm coming after you," she answered. I climbed down and landed on the soft grass; my mother followed and closed the window carefully behind her.
She led me along a narrow path in the garden I had never noticed before. "I made this path years ago when I thought about running," she said. "I planned for this."
We walked until we reached a small gate. She fitted a key into the lock, opened it, and let me slip through first. She joined me, turned back to make sure the latch held, then locked the gate.
Was this freedom? For the first time in a long time, I felt it lift in my chest.
We slid into the car and drove away. My mother had planned everything. I loved her.