Oliver
"Mindy," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. She stops, her back to me, the disapproving gaze of my mother burning into my imagination like a hot iron. “Maybe we should think about this.”
"Oliver," Mindy says, her voice trembling as she tries to muster up a smile. "You don"t have to worry about me. I"ll be all right."
“But Mindy,” I plead, “You have no idea what you"re walking into. The cabin is old and drafty…”
Of course, I can’t tell her the truth, that something far darker and sinister awaits her there. I have to let this be her decision. We have agreed that she will go on her own and that I will meet her there in a few days.
She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, letting out a shudder. Her voice firm, she declares, “It"s something I have to do.”
“You’re sure? We’v
