Chapter 19
Tessa dropped the burner phone onto the floor of the bus, jumping up from her seat in utter, blind panic.
"Maisie!" Tessa screamed, her voice echoing loudly through the quiet, half-empty passenger cabin of the speeding bus.
Several passengers turned around in their seats, glaring at her with annoyed and startled expressions.
"Has anyone seen a three-year-old blond girl?" Tessa shouted, rushing down the narrow aisle, checking every seat row by row.
The aisle was completely clear, and the heavy emergency exit door at the back was firmly sealed shut.
"Lady, calm down, nobody got on or off this bus," an older woman sitting near the front said sternly. "Check the restroom."
Tessa sprinted to the small lavatory door at the back of the bus, rattling the metal handle frantically.
The lock indicator showed OCCUPIED in bright red letters.
"Maisie! Are you in there?" Tessa screamed, slamming her fists repeatedly against the thin door panels.
There was no answer from inside, only the low, muffled sound of rushing wind and hum of the bus tires.
"I'm opening this door!" Tessa yelled, pulling a heavy brass pen from her jacket pocket and jamming it into the emergency override lock.
She twisted the mechanism, and the accordion door swung open with a loud snap.
Inside the tiny, dimly lit restroom, three-year-old Maisie was standing on top of the closed toilet seat, staring into the small mirror.
The mirror was thick with steam, despite the cold temperature inside the room.
Drawn into the moisture on the mirror was a detailed map of the California coastline, with a sharp red circle drawn around an isolated coastal town named Point Reyes.
Maisie turned her head slowly to look at her mother, her face completely calm, her blue eyes shining with an ancient, terrifying wisdom.
"We aren't going to San Diego, Mommy," Maisie said, her voice sounding perfectly clear, yet echoing as if spoken in a vast stone hall.
"Maisie, please, come out of there," Tessa begged, reaching out her hands to pull her daughter out of the bathroom.
Maisie did not move; instead, she pointed a tiny finger at the coast map drawn on the fogged mirror.
"Grandmother's sister is waiting for us at the lighthouse," Maisie whispered softly. "She has been waiting since 1994."
Tessa froze, her hands hovering in the air as the full, terrifying scope of the nightmare settled over her soul.
The curse was not limited to Lenora, Evan, or the mountain estate in Pine Ridge.
The Hawthorne family was an interconnected web stretching across the entire West Coast, and Maisie was not escaping the bloodline—she was being summoned to lead it.
Through the bathroom window, the dark, crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean began to appear as the bus traveled along the coastal highway.
Tessa pulled her daughter into her arms, stepping back into the aisle of the speeding bus as the sun dipped below the horizon, plunging the world into darkness.
She knew she could never go back, she could never stop running, and she could never fully trust the child sleeping in her arms again.
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Outside the window, reflected in the dark glass beside their row, stood the faint, lingering shadow of Abigail, holding a tiny red shoe in her hand.
And far ahead in the dark, perched high on the rocky cliffs of Point Reyes, a single lighthouse beam cut through the fog, signaling the start of the final gathering.
