Hanna paced back and forth inside the narrow room, her steps slow but never stopping. Sometimes she wrapped her arms around herself, sometimes she rubbed her forearms, as if trying to calm the uneasiness that refused to go away.

  She had been in that house for two days.

  Strangely… her body had almost completely recovered. The shoulder that had been bitten by the bear no longer hurt at all, except for a faint soreness now and then. The wound itself seemed dry already. It had healed far too quickly — so quickly that even she couldn’t understand it.

  But that wasn’t what worried her the most right now.

  Throughout those two days… she had never once been allowed to leave the room.

  Every time she tried to ask, Martha would give different excuses.

  Sometimes she said the weather was cold.

  Sometimes she said the outside area was dangerous.

  Sometimes she claimed Hanna was still weak.

  The reasons kept changing… but the answer remained the same.

  She couldn’t leave.

  Hanna stopped walking. She stared at the tightly closed door, deliberately locked from the outside so Martha’s sons wouldn’t disturb her.

  A bad feeling began creeping up her chest.

  Even more unsettling… every night, she would hear sounds from outside the room.

  Footsteps.

  Many of them.

  Sometimes slow… sometimes like hurried shuffling.

  And voices.

  Not clear like people talking… but low, rough sounds mixed with grunts. Occasionally it sounded like a pack of dogs fighting over something.

  A few times, she had approached the door, pressing her ear against it.

  But every single time… the noises would suddenly stop.

  As if they knew she was listening.

  “I have to get out of here…” Hanna whispered, her face set with clear determination.

  She walked toward the old wardrobe in the corner and opened it. Inside were her jacket and clothes, freshly washed, along with her sling bag. Relief flooded her chest immediately. At least the bag hadn’t been touched. Her identification card, a small notebook, and the money her mother had left her were still inside.

  Just as she was about to take out her clothes, she heard the sound of dragging footsteps outside the door. A few seconds later came the click of a key turning.

  Quickly, she shoved the clothes back into the wardrobe and closed it. Without wasting time, she sat on the bed, pretending she hadn’t been doing anything.

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  Moments later, the door opened.

  Martha stood in the doorway, smiling, carrying a tray with a bowl and a glass of drink.

  “How are you feeling, Hanna?” the old woman asked as she stepped inside.

  “I’m fine. My body has fully recovered.”

  “That’s good.”

  Hanna forced her lips into a smile.

  “I think… it’s time for me to go home. My family must be worried about me right now.”

  Martha didn’t answer immediately. She simply placed the tray on the small table beside the bed, then stood there upright.

  Silent.

  Too silent… until Hanna began to feel uncomfortable.

  “Did you hear me?” Hanna asked again, her tone starting to shift slightly.

  A faint snort escaped the old woman’s nose. Martha turned slowly before sitting down beside Hanna. The thin mattress dipped slightly under her weight.

  “You haven’t fully recovered yet,” she said calmly.

  Hanna immediately shook her head.

  “No. I have. I can walk already. Right now, I want to go home.”

  The atmosphere fell quiet for a moment.

  “Hanna…” Martha gently patted the girl’s thigh, her touch making Hanna feel uneasy for reasons she couldn’t explain. “Stay here for a few more days.”

  “I’m sorry… I can’t.” Hanna’s voice remained polite, but firm. “I need to go home now. My family must be looking for me.”

  Martha’s expression shifted slightly. Her lips tightened before she spoke again.

  “Don’t you like staying here?” she asked softly. “I treated you… took care of you… gave you food… drinks…”

  Hanna swallowed. She didn’t want to hurt the woman’s feelings, but she couldn’t stay there either.

  “Yes… I know. And I’m really grateful for all of that,” she replied honestly. “But I still have to go back. I have a family.”

  Martha let out a small snort. Her eyes studied Hanna’s face for a long time — too long — until Hanna herself grew uncomfortable under the gaze.

  A few seconds later… the old woman smiled again.

  A smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Alright…” she said finally. “Stay here just one more day. Tomorrow… I’ll allow you to go home.”

  Hanna fell silent for a moment, trying to weigh those words.

  “Promise?”

  Martha nodded slowly several times.

  “Yes… I promise.”

  Hanna let out a breath of relief, though deep in her heart there was still a strange feeling she couldn’t explain.

  “Alright… I’ll stay until tomorrow.”

  _______

  The moment Martha stepped out of the room, her hands trembled violently as she turned the key in the lock. The clicking sound echoed louder than usual. She paused there for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding of her heart against her chest.

  Then she turned and hurried down the stairs. There was no longer any dragging, frail movement like an old woman. Now her steps were firm, almost rushed — like someone racing against time.

  Downstairs, just as expected, her sons were gathered. But this time there were more of them. Several women were there as well — their faces imperfect, eyes uneven, smiles too wide as if forced.

  “Huh… huh…” one of her sons spoke excitedly.

  Martha shot him a sharp glare. That single look was enough to silence him. Without another word, she opened the front door and ordered everyone outside.

  Outside, the area was as quiet as always. Several wooden houses stood scattered in front and to the sides. Behind each house, thick forest formed a natural wall.

  At that moment, an old man appeared from the dirt path, a shotgun resting on his shoulder. His steps were slow, but his eyes were sharp as they observed the crowd gathered in Martha’s yard.

  “Huh… huh…” Martha’s sons began making noises again, competing to speak. Their sounds overlapped — unclear, disorganized — like a pack of dogs barking when their owner appeared.

  “Quiet!” Martha’s voice was low but firm.

  They fell silent instantly, only their rough breathing audible.

  “Yes… tonight we will do it,” Martha finally said. Her face was hard, the decision clearly final. “The four of you go bathe in the river. Clean yourselves. Tonight… dress nicely.”

  “Huh! Huh!”

  Their excitement exploded. Some jumped slightly, others spun around like children receiving gifts. The women clapped softly, their expressions strange — smiling without real joy.

  The old man stepped closer.

  “You want to do it tonight?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  “Yes,” Martha replied shortly.

  “I want to take part too.”

  Martha immediately looked at him sharply. “Don’t be ridiculous, Bundy. That girl is only for my sons. Go find your own.”

  “No one dares to come here… I’ve been searching for years,” the old man pleaded, his voice almost trembling. “Give me a chance.”

  “If I give you a chance, the others will want one too,” Martha replied coldly. “I have many sons. I won’t allow it.”

  The old man clenched his jaw. His eyes shifted toward the house — straight to the upper floor.

  “In that case…” he said quietly, “just let me see her. That alone would be enough.”