Chapter 10
The following morning arrived with a thick
Veil of gray clouds hanging over the neighborhood. Rain tapped lightly against the windows, a rhythm Jessy found both soothing and unsettling. It was the kind of day that made the world feel quieter, yet filled with the weight of unspoken things.
She stood at the kitchen sink, absentmindedly running her fingers over the edge of a chipped mug, her gaze fixed on the Sebastiano house across the street. Something had changed. Dave's words echoed endlessly in her mind: You're part of something bigger. It was terrifying. And yet, deep down, something inside her—something she barely understood—believed him.
Rocky barked suddenly, jerking Jessy from her thoughts. She turned quickly, heart pounding, and saw a figure approaching through the misted window. For a moment, fear surged—but it wasn't Dave.
It was Maura.
Jessy opened the door, and the older woman stepped inside with a soaked shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her expression was tense, her lips drawn tight.
"We need to talk," Maura said, her voice low.
Jessy helped her out of the wet shawl and offered her a towel. "About Dave?"
"About everything," Maura replied, settling into the kitchen chair. "You need to know the truth—before someone else decides to tell it their way."
Jessy sat across from her, heart thudding. "I'm listening."
Maura's fingers twisted the damp cloth in her hands. "I've lived next to the Sebastianos for over twenty years. Watched them grow, watched that house change hands. Each generation darker than the last. People around here whisper stories, but I've seen the signs myself."
Jessy leaned in. "What kind of signs?"
"Accidents. Disappearances. People crossing the Sebastianos and never being the same afterward—if they came back at all. But it's more than just power and intimidation. There's something else… Something old and cruel that follows them."
Jessy shivered. "Dave said his ancestors made some kind of deal."
Maura nodded slowly. "They did. Blood for power. Protection at a cost. I don't know all the details—no one does. But I know this: the family is cursed. And curses don't die quietly."
Silence settled between them for a moment, broken only by the steady ticking of the old wall clock.
"And the baby?" Jessy whispered. "Dave thinks the baby is… important."
Maura's gaze dropped to Jessy's stomach, her expression softening. "Maybe it is. You've felt it too, haven't you? The difference. The connection."
Jessy nodded slowly. There was something—something she couldn't explain. Moments where the world around her seemed to still when she touched her belly. Flashes of warmth, instinct, almost as if the baby was already aware.
"I'm scared," Jessy admitted.
"You should be," Maura said. "But you're strong. And you're not alone—not yet."
A sharp knock on the front door made them both jump.
Jessy stood quickly, glancing toward the window. Dave.
She opened the door and he stepped in, his expression serious. His clothes were damp, and there was a tension in his jaw she hadn't seen before.
"We have to go," he said without preamble.
"Go?" Jessy's pulse spiked.
"They're here," he said. "I didn't expect them this soon, but someone's made a move."
Maura stood. "Who?"
Dave looked at her, surprised she was there, then turned back to Jessy. "A man named Marco Delano. Old family enemy. He's been watching us for weeks—waiting for a weakness. He knows about you. And the baby."
Jessy's blood ran cold.
"Why would he care?" she asked.
"Because the child could break the curse," Dave said. "Or bind it forever. Depending on who controls it."
Maura moved toward the back door. "Then you need to disappear. Now."
Jessy looked at her, stunned. "You're helping us?"
Maura's eyes were fierce. "I might not know everything, but I know what evil looks like. And that man—Marco—he brings it with him. Go. I'll cover you for as long as I can."
Dave didn't hesitate. He reached for Jessy's coat, wrapping it around her shoulders. "We'll go through the woods. There's a safe place outside town. A cabin my grandfather built before all of this. No one knows about it."
Jessy nodded, though fear swirled inside her like a storm. She clutched her stomach protectively and followed Dave into the rain.
They moved quickly through the backyard and into the cover of trees. The path was slick and overgrown, but Dave knew it well. He kept one hand on Jessy's arm, guiding her over fallen branches and muddy terrain. Rocky trotted behind them, silent but alert.
By the time the cabin came into view, Jessy's legs ached and her breath was uneven, but relief flooded her. It was small, rustic, but sturdy. A single light flickered from inside.
Dave unlocked the door and ushered her in.
The inside was modest—a stone fireplace, wooden chairs, and a thick quilt draped over a worn couch. It smelled faintly of cedar and earth, a comforting contrast to the tension outside.
"Stay here," Dave said as he checked the windows. "No one knows this place. You'll be safe."
Jessy sank onto the couch, her hand never leaving her belly. "What if they find us?"
Dave crouched beside her. "They won't. Not if I stop them first."
She grabbed his hand. "Don't go."
His gaze softened. "I have to. Marco's not just after you—he wants to burn everything down. If I don't stop him, he will."
"Then take me with you," Jessy said. "We can face it together."
He shook his head slowly. "This curse… this war between our families—it's not yours to fight. But I'll come back. I swear it."
Jessy's eyes brimmed with unshed tears, but she nodded.
Dave leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone but me."
And then he was gone, swallowed by the rain and the trees.
Jessy sat in the cabin's silence, the fire casting flickering shadows across the walls. She felt the baby shift, a small flutter that felt almost like reassurance. Rocky lay at her feet, a silent sentinel.
Outside, thunder rolled low and long. A storm was coming—not just in the skies, but in their lives. And Jessy knew one thing for sure.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
The minutes dragged on in heavy silence. Jessy stared at the door, every creak of wood or rustle of leaves outside tightening the knot in her stomach. The wind howled, sending rain against the windows in angry lashes. Still, Dave didn't return.
She stood and paced the room, trying to shake the growing unease. Her hand rested protectively over her stomach, instinctively shielding the life inside her. A part of her wanted to believe Dave's promise—that he'd come back, that everything would be okay. But another part, the part that had learned to survive disappointment, whispered doubts in the back of her mind.
Suddenly, Rocky's ears perked up. A growl rumbled in his throat.
Jessy froze. "What is it?"
Rocky moved to the door, muscles tense.
She stepped back, panic beginning to rise. Her hand moved toward the fireplace poker. Dave said not to open the door for anyone.
A shadow passed by the front window. Jessy held her breath.
Then, a knock—slow, deliberate.
She didn't move. Didn't speak.
Another knock. Louder.
"Jessy," came a voice, low and unfamiliar. "We know you're in there. Open the door, and no one gets hurt."
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Marco.
She backed away, clutching the poker. The cabin suddenly felt too small, too exposed.
Rocky barked fiercely, the sound echoing off the walls.
Jessy whispered, "Please, Dave. Come back."
Because if he didn't… she didn't know how much longer she could keep them safe.