Chapter 11 - The Aftermath in the Snow
The red and blue emergency lights painted the falling snow in frantic, pulsing strokes against the dark pine trees. Outside the cabin, the crunch of heavy tactical boots replaced the eerie silence of the woods as state troopers flooded the perimeter.
Sarah stood on the covered porch, her breath pluming in the freezing air, holding the heavy black pistol down by her side until a trooper gently motioned for her to lower it. Behind her, wrapped in a thick wool blanket, the boy looked out through the open doorway at the wreckage of the living room.
Arthur was being wheeled out on a gurney, his face twisted in a mixture of agony and impotent fury, his shattered right knee heavily bandaged. As they rolled him past, his eyes locked onto the boy with a look of pure, unadulterated venom—the kind of look that promised a slow, calculated destruction if he ever got free.
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"He's going to lie," the boy whispered, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders, his fiberglass-cast hand throbbing against his chest.
"Let him try," Sarah said, her voice completely steady as she rested a warm, grounding hand on his shoulder. "Clara’s phone uploaded twenty minutes of live audio directly to the state police cyber unit. His entire facade is already public property."
