Page 26 of Smokescreen

Olive gasped and drew back, readying herself to be lunged at and attacked.

Instead, she heard, “I told you to stay in bed.”

Her mother. Of course.

Olive released the breath she’d been holding before instantly feeling wound up again.

“Something’s wrong,” Olive rushed. “Is Dad okay?”

She wished she could see her mother’s eyes, that she could search for the truth in their depths. But she couldn’t. It was too dark. All she could do was make guesses.

“He’s . . . he’s fine.” Her mom’s voice became more confident with every word, almost as if she was convincing herself.

“But—”

“There are no buts about this, Olive Louise. I need you to listen to me.”

Olive stared at her mom’s shadowed figure. She pictured herself pushing past her mother and going downstairs anyway.

The idea was tempting.

But she respected her mom too much to do that.

Her shoulders dropped with resignation as she turned and slowly walked back to her bed. Creaks in the hallway seemed to indicate her mother was satisfied that Olive had listened and that she’d gone back to bed.

Olive lay beneath the covers and listened, trying to pick up on anything else that might give her a clue about what had happened downstairs.

Instead, she heard silence.

And more silence.

And more silence.

What was going on down there?

Fifteen minutes later, noises broke the silence.

Heavy footsteps came up the stairs.

Fear flashed through her.

What if one of the men who’d been arguing with her father was coming up here? What if this person had hurt her father and now wanted to hurt her mom? Her sisters?

Olive’s instincts kicked in. She glanced around her room, and her gaze stopped on her old softball bat.

Quietly, she climbed out of bed and grabbed it.

Then she held it on her shoulder, ready to swing if needed.

No one was going to hurt her mom or sisters. Not if Olive could stop it.

Her heart pounded wildly in her ears as she crept toward the door.

She still heard the footfalls of someone coming upstairs.

She couldn’t be hasty. But her decisions would need to be swift.

She hesitated only a moment before reaching for the door handle and twisting it.