Read The Night Everything Changed for Free Online

been handling the farm on their own. It’d been tough at times, but they’d made it through all right. However, with her leaving for school in the fall, he would have to hire on some help if was going to keep the farm going. There was no way he could preserve the nineteen acres of crops himself. That didn’t include the surrounding two hundred acres of woodland, plus the other fifty acres of fields. The house was already greatly isolated from the rest of Doverton in the nearly three hundred acres his family owned. It was as if the rest of the world was nonexistent.
    He didn’t mind living on the farm. He’d grown up on the land, and it was nice raising his daughter in such a small town. He could keep an eye on her, making sure she stayed out of trouble. Or so he hoped. Leanne would have all this land to herself one day, and the three-story farmhouse with it. She’d be more than taken care of once he’d gone to his own greener pastures.
    “All right now. Enough is enough. Time to get home, girl.” Even speaking only to himself, his voice sounded worried.
    He paced the front porch for several more minutes, then headed inside to check the time. Standing in the living room, he glanced at the grandfather clock by the fireplace.
    12:31.
    A shot of dread hit Vincent in the chest. Something was wrong. He knew it. Leanne had never been late, ever. If she knew she was going to be, she would have called him. But there had been no phone call, so that meant she wasn’t expecting to be late, which could only mean…
    Something had happened.
    But what?
    Vincent didn’t know, but he planned to find out. First, he needed to come up with a plan. Actions couldn’t be taken without the proper preparation.
    He sat in his favorite chair, an old cushioned rocker, to think. As he glided back and forth, he combed his thoughts for a game plan.
    He was certain the carnival was over by now. He’d have to take the tractor since Leanne had the truck, and it would probably take him twenty to thirty minutes to get to the pasture gate on Mystic Lane.
    What if they’ve locked it?  
    That was simple. He’d break the damn lock. After all, it was his gate, and his property they were squatting on.
    Why did he need a plan? He should just ride out there and, if he needed to, drag Leanne kicking and screaming back home. It’d serve her right for being so late.
    Absorbed by his thoughts, Vincent nearly missed the pitter-patter of little feet darting across his front porch. It sounded like the footsteps of children playing tag on the stoop.
    It made his skin crawl.
    He stood up. The rocking chair knocked against the backs of his legs. He crept to the double-bay windows that looked on to the porch. He’d have a nice view of the porch and even a partial look at the yard. He could see his own reflection in the glass. It looked as if there were two of him, both slinking to meet at the window. The brightness inside made it impossible to see into the darkness outside.
    Vincent pressed his face to the glass as if he and his reflection were trying to clumsily kiss. He placed his hand over his brow, like a visor. It helped very little.
    The footsteps had ceased. He twisted his neck, peering even harder out the window. He could feel the glass brushing the white of his eye.
    He still couldn’t see a thing.
    The nearest lamp sat on the end table a few feet away. Shutting it off would kill his reflection. Keeping his face against the glass, he reached for the lamp. His forehead squawked across the window, leaving a smudged print on its way. His fingers brushed the dust-caked weft of the lamp shade. The shade fell off the caddy, catching on the wire rim, and tilted away from the bulb. He felt around the base until he found the switch.
    And his gaze through the window was met by a dozen or more beady pairs of eyes.
    Bellowing a scream that hurt his throat, he shuffled backwards on stringy legs. His flailing arms bumped the end table, knocking the lamp over. It