The Invasion

11 | Into the Storm

"Mia!"

My first instinct is to run out after her, to tow her right back into the safety of this nest, but then someone beats me to it—Clara. Hearing my scream earlier, she finally realizes the situation. She pushes past me and heads out into the storm, screaming for her daughter. Wind and slanted rain slash at her skinny frame. I watch as the storm devours her completely, my jaw dropping in sheer horror, until Mom appears a second later and pushes me back down the stairs.

"Get back inside, Delia!"

I see Mom reach for her gun and head for the door. Knowing her character, she's able to run after them. Despite her tough demeanor, she has always been a Samaritan. It doesn't matter if she's running straight into danger, but for my well-being, she hates me taking risks.

My hands fly out to grab her arms. "Mom?" My voice comes out in barely a whisper. Afraid. Pleading. "What're you doing?"

"Stay with Charles and Emily," she tells me firmly. "I'll be right back."

Emotions rush up my throat, choking me. "Mom, no! Don't leave me behind–"

She presses a quick kiss on my head. "Love you, baby. Don't be afraid. I'll be right back—I promise."

Leaving those last words, she pulls her arm out of my stubborn hands. Letting them hang in the air as the distance between us widens.

"MOM!" I scream at her back. "Come back! Please!"

She doesn't hear me. Her waning form vanishes into the tumultuous storm just as desperation tears through my chest. My feet shuffle forward, but a hand clamps down on my shoulder and hauls me back.

Charles stares right back at me, wide-eyed and alarmed. They wrapped his arms and forehead in bandages. Behind him, Max and Emily appear, wearing the same shell-shocked expression.

"What the hell—" he gasps in bafflement. "Did we not lock the door earlier, Max? How could Mia reach for it?"

Max is as startled as he is. His face grows pale. "I-I'm pretty sure I did..."

Hearing their exchange, I stare past the rest, my gaze landing on Matteo, who takes another swig from the bottle. Unlike us, he seems unfazed by this situation.

Matteo turns his head slightly, and we regard each other carefully. Something about his attitude perturbs me, including that slinky glint in his eyes. There's something off about his eerie calmness that gives me the chills down my spine.

And when he smiles, that's when everything slowly clicks into place.

That douchebag!

He's the one who unlocked the door!

Charles breaks my train of thoughts by taking my arm and steering me back. Shaking his head. "Don't go out there, Delia. It's not safe."

I glance at his worried expression before gliding past to meet Matteo's deceitful eyes. I hold his gaze right there with a spiteful glare, imagining myself hurling daggers at him like he's the dartboard. Or throwing punches into his snobbish face.

But I don't.

Instead, a hysterical laugh bubbles inside me.

My behavior startles everyone. I meet Charles's gaze and give him a withdrawn response. "Is it any safer here? With him around?"

I jab a finger in the perpetrator's direction. The rest of the group stares between me and a drunk Matteo, who keeps up with his acting and shakes what's left of the liquid in the wine bottle.

He rolls his eyes. "Are you kidding me? I'm not the one who told the little one that her father is lost. It's you, brat. Isn't that the reason she ran out?"