Chapter 4: The Gate Stayed Closed
The gate had started to move.
I reached the control panel and pressed the stop switch. The motor strained, then cut out. Beyond the bars, the first vehicle stood with its headlights dimmed. The second remained behind it, dark except for the low glow beneath the hood. The figure beside the lead vehicle turned toward the camera mounted over the station.
He knew where it was.
I checked the recording before touching anything else. The timestamp advanced by seconds. The image showed the vehicles entering the estate road, stopping at the gate, and sending one person forward on foot. No license plate was clear. The rain had left a wet shine across the lens, but the shape of the lead vehicle and the dark strip along its side were visible.
I saved the recording to the station drive.
Only then did I activate the intercom.
“Where's your mama? My mama needs help, she's on the floor.”
The words came from the speaker as an old recording, Lily's voice caught by the estate system when she had reached the door. I had forgotten the station recorded every exterior sound after midnight. The small voice filled the room, thin and frightened, then faded into static.
Outside, the person at the gate lifted his hand again.
I kept the barrier closed.
The intercom light blinked. I did not answer it. If the people outside had come for Allie, silence gave them no proof that she had reached the house. If they had another reason, silence still cost less than an open gate.
I went back through the passage. Dr. Leon stood over Allie, two fingers at her neck. Lily sat on the floor beside the narrow bed, clutching her rabbit against her chest. Her eyes went to me, then to the door.
I raised one finger.
She nodded, though I could not tell whether she understood the instruction or only understood my fear.
Dr. Leon pointed toward the covered wrists. The clean cloth on one side had loosened. Beneath it, the skin was marked in narrow bands, darker where pressure had broken small vessels. He retied the cloth without speaking. Allie watched him with a steady, exhausted stare.
A vehicle door slammed outside.
The sound traveled through the walls.
I returned to the station and enlarged the image. The person beside the gate had stepped back. Another figure stood near the second vehicle now, holding something rectangular at chest height. Not a weapon. A folder, perhaps, or a phone. The first person moved to the call box and pressed it once.
I watched the indicator flash.
Then he pressed it again.
The estate had a rule against opening for unverified visitors. I had written that rule after a delivery driver wandered into the service court and found the staff quarters by mistake. At the time, it had seemed excessive. Now the locked gate felt like the only honest decision available.
The vehicles began to reverse.
For one second I thought they were leaving. Then the lead vehicle stopped beneath the nearest security light. Its rear tires settled into the wet gravel. The second car pulled close behind it, blocking the road.
A white rectangle appeared on the ground near the gatehouse.
The person from the vehicle walked away without looking back.
I waited until both vehicles had shifted out of the camera's direct view before leaving the station. The rain had stopped. The air smelled of wet stone and iron. I approached the gate on foot, keeping the residence behind me.
The rectangle was a receipt, damp and folded once.
I lifted it with a pair of gloves from the station cabinet. Allie Carter was printed across the top line. Below her name, the ink had run into a blurred address and a date from earlier that week.
I looked toward the road.
May you like
The vehicles were gone.
Behind me, from the staff quarters, Lily made no sound. That frightened me more than crying would have.
