The Housemaid’s Secret: A totally gripping psychological thriller with a shocking twist
The Housemaid’s Secret: Part 4 – Chapter 70

Russell is dead.

Murdered.

And it happened between the time I left the bathroom and right now.

I think back to that open window I spotted when I came outside before to get the wine. Somebody got into this cabin. Somebody came into this cabin and did this to Russell.

I’m scared I know who that person is. There is one person who has a vendetta out for me right now, as well as a history of violent behavior. And the police were unable to replace her.

“Millie?” I call out.

No answer.

And then the lights go out.

I’d like to say it was the storm, but I don’t think the wind is strong enough to kill the power. Somebody cut the power.

I hug my arms to my chest as a chill goes through me. The cabin has gone pitch black now that the power is out. I’ve got my phone and was getting some reception, but I left it all the way in the kitchen. If she’s smart, she has probably taken it by now. Which means I have no way to call for help.

“Millie?” I call out again.

There’s no answer. She’s toying with me—she must hate me right now. And she has every right to hate me. She was trying to help me, and I pinned everything on her. She made it way too easy.

And now my friend Audrey’s words ring out in my head: She’s hardcore, believe me—she’s dangerous.

Millie is extremely dangerous. That much is clear.

And I have made an enemy of her.

“Millie,” I squeak out. “Please listen to me. I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did. But you have to know, Douglas was abusive. I was telling you the truth.”

Glass shatters somewhere on the other side of the room. I jerk my head in the direction of the sound. Unless Millie has night vision goggles, she has got to be as blind as I am in the dark. Maybe I can somehow use that to my advantage.

“Douglas did all these terrible things to me. He was horrific as a husband. I needed to get out of that marriage. You have to understand…”

Millie is still not answering. But I can feel her seething rage. I have messed with the wrong woman.

“Millie,” I continue, “you have to know, I wasn’t faking it. And your kindness to me… It meant everything. I had to do what I did.”

There’s a flash of lightning, and it’s just bright enough to show that I’ve got a clean shot at the kitchen. The kitchen, which is filled with knives and other things that I could theoretically use as a weapon, even if she’s taken my phone.

To hell with reasoning with that psychopath. If she wants a fight, she’s going to get one.

I sprint in the direction of the kitchen. Millie’s footsteps are behind me, but I don’t stop. I keep my arms out in front of me, hoping I don’t run straight into a wall. By the grace of God, I make it into the kitchen. I move past the small kitchen table, trying not to trip over it. I make it past that hurdle, and then my feet slip out from under me.

There’s blood all over the floor.

It must be Russell’s blood, tracked in here by the soles of her shoes. When I close my eyes, I can still see him lying in the bathroom, his throat slit, his eyes staring at nothing. Millie did that to him, and he’s not even the one she truly hates. I can’t even imagine what she must have in store for me.

I’m not going to give her a chance to do it. I’m going to go down swinging. She may be tough, but so am I.

I scramble to my feet, even though my right hip is throbbing from the fall. I feel my way to the kitchen counter, and I blindly grope around for the block of knives. I definitely saw a block of knives on the counter. I’m not imagining it.

Please be here. Please.

But my hands come up empty. I can’t feel anything that resembles a weapon on the kitchen counter. Of course, Millie is too smart for that. I was only able to fool her before because she trusted me, but now that she knows my game, she has anticipated all my moves. She has already murdered one person tonight, and she has every intention of making me her next victim.

I feel around for the stove. I’m certain I saw a frying pan on it. If I could grab that and somehow swing it at her hard enough, I might be able to take her down. It’s my only chance.

But then I hear the footsteps behind me, growing closer. Too close.

Oh God. She’s in the kitchen with me.