I Took My Family to a Hidden Lake House… Now I Can’t Sleep

 I Took My Family to a Hidden Lake House… Now I Can’t Sleep VIDEO

The pine forest grows denser as I drive on. The road narrows. The asphalt is cracked and full of potholes that I avoid with smooth movements of the steering wheel.

Sam is still asleep in the back seat. His breathing is steady, calm.

Emma looks at the map on her phone.

“Five kilometers,” she says. “There’s a turnoff toward Kenora.”

“And then?”

“Frank said he’ll be waiting for us at a bar called The Blue Lake. Near the harbor.”

I nod.

The landscape changes. The pines give way to scattered wooden houses. Some have boats tied to small docks. The lake appears now and then between the trees, a blue-gray glimmer.

I drive into Kenora. A small town. Quiet streets. A gas station. A white wooden church. The welcome sign reads: “Kenora: Gateway to the Lake of the Woods.”

I follow Emma’s directions. Left at a traffic light, then right. The Blue Lake bar is at the end of a cobblestone street beside the dock.

I park in front of the bar. It has an unlit neon sign and a terrace with empty tables. The door is half open.

“Stay here with Sam,” I say. “I’m going to find Frank.”

“Be careful.”

“Always.”

I get out of the car. Walk toward the entrance. Push the door open. Inside smells like damp wood and stale beer. A bald man stands behind the counter, cleaning a glass with a rag. He looks at me.

“Frank Morrison?” I ask.

The man points toward a table in the back. A big guy, around sixty, with a gray beard and a leather jacket, sits alone. A cup of coffee in front of him.

I walk over. He raises his head.

“Jack Coleman?”

“Yeah.”

“Sit down.”

I sit across from him. Frank studies me with small, sharp eyes.

“Valeria told me you were coming,” he says. “You brought the woman and the boy.”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ve got the keys. The house is fifteen minutes from here, north of town. Dirt road, isolated. No neighbors. The road isn’t marked on any maps.”

He pulls a key ring from his jacket pocket and slides it across the table. Two metal keys. One small, one larger.

“The small one is for the front door. The big one is for the gate lock.”

“Water? Electricity?”

“Everything works. There’s a backup generator. The fridge is stocked. I bought enough supplies for a week.”

“Thanks.”

He nods.

“Valeria says you need time. Don’t know how much, but the house is safe. Nobody knows it exists. I bought it under a shell company years ago.”

“And you?”

“I’m heading back to Winnipeg. If anyone asks, I never saw you.”

“Understood.”

I take the keys. Stand up.

“Jack.”

“What?”

“Be careful on the road. There’s a stretch with loose gravel. Don’t drive fast.”

“I won’t.”

I leave the bar. Return to the car. Hold up the keys for Emma to see.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Everything’s okay.”

I start the engine. Take the road north, following Frank’s directions. The asphalt ends quickly. The dirt road winds between the trees. Gravel crunches beneath the tires.

I drive slowly, just like he warned me.

The sun begins to set behind the pines. Long shadows stretch across the road.

A rusted sign marks a turnoff. I turn left. About a hundred meters farther, a black iron gate blocks the way.

I get out of the car. Use the large key to open the padlock. Push the gate open. Get back in and drive through.

The road continues another two hundred meters until a two-story wooden house appears, with a roof covered in leaves and a sheltered porch. The windows are dark.

I park in front of the entrance. Turn off the engine.

“We’re here,” I say.

I get out. The air smells like pine and wet earth. Open the back door. Sam is still asleep, his head tilted to one side.

“Sam,” I say softly. “We’re here.”

He slowly opens his eyes. Blinks.

“We’re at the house already?”

“Yeah. Come on.”

I lift him into my arms. He’s heavy, but I hold him. Emma opens the front door with the small key.

The door swings inward. A dark hallway. I search for the light switch on the wall. The lights come on, revealing a large living room. Brown fabric sofas. A stone fireplace. A wooden table in the center. Everything covered with a thin layer of dust.

I step inside. Sam clings to my neck.

“It smells old,” he says.

“It just needs some fresh air,” Emma says, opening the windows.

I cross the living room. A hallway leads to two bedrooms. I choose the one on the right. A bed with a blue quilt. A nightstand. A floor lamp.

I place Sam on the bed. He curls up immediately, eyes already closing.

“You staying here, champ?”

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow we’ll have a good breakfast.”

“Okay.”

I leave the room. Emma is in the kitchen, opening cabinet doors. She pulls out a pot and sets it on the stove.

“There’s canned food,” she says. “Beans, soup, vegetables.”

“Enough for a few days.”

“Do you think we’ll be safe here?”

“For now, yes.”

She nods. Fills the pot with water from a jug and sets it to heat.

“Want coffee? There’s a coffee maker.”

“Yeah.”

I sit in one of the kitchen chairs. Rest my elbows on the table. The wood feels cold.

Emma makes the coffee in silence. The water begins to boil.

“We should get some rest,” she says. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

“You’re right.”

Coffee drips into the pot. The smell fills the kitchen.

I pour coffee into two mugs. Hand one to Emma. She holds it between her hands, watching the steam rise.

“Do you think Frank can be trusted?” she asks.

“Valeria trusts him.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

I take a sip. The coffee is hot, slightly bitter.

“I don’t know,” I say. “But we don’t have another option.”

Emma nods. Sits across from me. Sets her mug on the table and wraps both hands around it.

“Tomorrow we should find a map of the area. Learn the escape routes.”

“Good idea.”

“And check the generator. Just in case.”

“I’ll do it.”

She smiles. A tired smile, but real.

“You’re very quiet, Jack.”

“I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

“About what comes next. When all this is over.”

“And what do you think?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a place like this. A house. A lake. Far away from everything.”

She lowers her eyes.

“That sounds nice.”

“Yeah.”

I finish my coffee. Stand up. Walk to the kitchen window. Look outside. The sun has already set. Only a faint glow remains on the horizon between the pines.

“We should sleep,” I say.

“I’ll put Sam to bed. You pick a room.”

“Okay.”

She stands. Takes her mug to the sink. Then walks down the hallway toward Sam’s room.

I stay alone in the kitchen.

The silence feels strange. After days of running, hiding, checking the rearview mirror, being here in an empty house feels unreal.

I turn off the kitchen light.

Walk down the hallway. The other bedroom is at the end. A bed just like Sam’s. A window facing the forest. I crack the window open. Cool air drifts in.

I sit on the edge of the bed.

For the first time in days, I don’t hear engines. I don’t see approaching headlights.

Only the wind moving through the trees.

I lie back on the bed. Close my eyes.

But I don’t sleep.

I listen. I wait.