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"You dare snarl at me?" she hissed, shoving it into the cage. "Remember who feeds you, ungrateful beast!"
Her fury at Jack was clearly taking its toll on the animal. The punishment dragged on longer than usual.
That night, as I set my phone aside, a wailing howl pierced the silence — eerily reminiscent of the ghostly cries from my own sleepless nights a lifetime ago.
Gripping a kitchen knife, I crept to the door.
Through the peephole, two pairs of emerald eyes glowed in the dark at Emily's doorstep.
Sensing my presence, they turned to me. I flinched. The knife clattered against the wood, triggering the hallway’s motion sensor light.
Blinded momentarily by the sudden glare, I blinked. When my vision cleared, only the fox remained—huddled alone in its cage.
It struggled to its trembling feet at the sight of me, tail wagging weakly as it let out a thin, unsettling whine that echoed in the silent corridor.
I kept my distance, pulling out a strip of dried jerky. "Last one," I muttered, tossing it into the cage.
The fox spun toward the meat, frenzied. Before I could withdraw my hand, it lunged—jaws snapping a hair’s breadth from my fingers.
Watching it gulp down the jerky, the memory resurfaced: this creature tearing into my child’s flesh a lifetime ago.
My son’s agony flooded back. I clenched my fists until nails bit into my palms, fighting the urge to shatter the cage and end it.
Days later, Jack returned triumphant. The old family houses were slated for demolition, promising a hefty payout.
When Mark and I married, my father-in-law had promised the properties to whichever descendant cared for him in his twilight years. Now he was gone, Jack had hounded Linda to sign the smaller house over to him.
Linda knew exactly how Jack and Emily had neglected her and her late husband, yet worn down by Jack’s relentless pestering, she reluctantly approached me.
"Would you mind if he got the smaller one? The larger house would still be yours and Mark’s."
I nodded. It meant little to us. Mark and I had built our own wealth through years of work. The house’s value? We could earn that back in a year. No need to stress Linda.
Knowing my agreement, Jack practically sprinted home.
As his door swung open, the fox leaped into his arms. Its green eyes above his shoulder were eerily human-like, brimming with silent grievance.
