Chapter Twenty-Four: MAISIE POV

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 Clara's smile disappeared and her brows furrowed when the door opened. It was too early for Miles and Joseph to be coming inside, but her shock was too much for simply a disrupted routine. I looked over my shoulder to see a strange man stumbling into our home. His clothes were disheveled, dark stubble was across his jaw, and dark bags were under his eyes. He reeked of bourbon, which was something I had not smelled since coming to the home.

How had he gotten inside? Miles told me they had locked the door. He and Joseph never took the keys off from around their necks, so I never questioned it. Did they accidentally leave the door unlocked? Had it been unlocked for a while?

Clara pulled her hands off my stomach as she stood. The man's movements were jerky and panicked as he reached into his jacket. He flipped out the blade of his pocket knife and held it toward us.

"Don't move!" the man shouted, his words a drunken slur. "Stay where you are!"

"What are you doing?" Clara asked. Her voice wavered, and her eyes were focused on the knife. "What do you want from us?"

"Where's your money?" he asked.

"We don't have money."

Clara's body trembled. She chewed on her bottom lip as she clutched her chest. A wave of nausea hit me, and I cradled my stomach. The baby was still moving. The little flutters reminded me I had to protect my unborn child.

"My husband and son are outside. In any minute, they should be inside," Clara said, the last part was a lie. "I suggest you leave immediately before they discover you're in our home."

"I am not leaving until I get something. I need money," he said. "You better find something valuable."

Clara looked down at me before letting out a shaky breath. She held her hands up as she walked across the kitchen. The man turned to keep the knife pointed at Clara. Her hands shook as she searched through the kitchen drawers. I was unsure what she was hoping to find. There was nothing of value in the kitchen. She shook her head as she slammed the drawers shut.

"We don't have anything," Clara said.

"You have nothing in this big house?" he asked. "I don't believe that. You are stalling. Get me something worth money or I will gut both of you."

I took in a sharp breath as I stood. The screeching of my chair against the floor caught the man's attention. He looked over his shoulder at me but did not move the knife away from Clara. My eyes darted around the kitchen. There was nothing in this room this man would want, but there had to be something in this home. Neither Clara or my baby could get hurt.

My mind was fogged with panic. I struggled to think and recall what was valuable in the house. If I went into the living room, I could find something he would want, and he would leave. I rushed forward, but the man spun to point the knife toward me. I froze and held my breath.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"We probably have something you want." My pounding heart caused my words to come out fast. "Let me look in the next room. We probably have something worth some money like a clock."

"A clock?" he asked. "I don't want a clock."

"We don't have anything!" Clara exclaimed.

The man looked back at Clara. She clutched her chest, and the man narrowed his eyes.

"Your ring," he said. "Give me your ring."

Clara's jaw dropped. She looked at her wedding ring. For a moment, she squeezed her eyes shut. A tear rolled down her cheek before she pulled her ring off her finger. The man snatched her jewelry out of her hold. He took a quick glance at the ring before turning to face me.

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