The Overnight Guest

by Heather Gudenkauf

It isn’t the dark you should be afraid of, the girl thought, it’s the monsters who step out into the light that you need to fear.

Homes were supposed to be safe havens, meant to protect. It was supposed to be a shelter from the elements, a fortress to keep out evil, and her home had betrayed Josie in the worst possible way.

Wylie looked down at her own hand, where a matching horseshoe-shaped scar, though less pronounced, marred her palm.

And that’s when she recognized him. It was Jackson Henley, the man who murdered her family. The man who took Becky.

“It was supposed to be you all along,” Randy said, his voice weak but taunting. “Just you. But your family got in the way and Becky didn’t run as fast as you did.”

“Wylie,” the little girl said shyly. “My name is Josie.”