Horsons

Horsons Part 5

“Don’t make a scene,” his mother said as the car slowed before the main gate of Greta’s sprawling compound. The iron bars rose higher than Jack expected, their black tips curved like thorns. “And no matter what happens, know that Greta will take care of you.”

Her tone was gentle—too gentle.
She leaned across the seat, kissed his forehead, and before he could respond she was already opening the door.

Jack watched her cross the gravel drive and speak briefly into the intercom. The gate opened just wide enough to swallow her, then slid shut again with a heavy metallic finality.

He waited.

The minutes stretched. Five. Then ten. The compound beyond the gate was quiet in a way that felt deliberate, as though sound itself had been trained to behave.

Jack was starting to consider getting out of the car when a soft knock made him flinch.

A girl stood by the passenger window, no older than twelve or thirteen. She had dark hair pulled neatly back and eyes that were too calm for someone her age.

“Y-yes?” Jack said, lowering the window an inch.

“I’m Minerva,” she said. “My mother sent me to bring you inside.” Her gaze flicked past him, toward the street. “It’s not safe to wait out here.”

Jack followed her line of sight. Across the road, a heavyset woman was herding four little boys along the sidewalk, gripping each of them by the collar or wrist. They didn’t look frightened—just quiet. Obedient.

Minerva noticed him staring. “They don’t belong here,” she said softly, as if that explained everything.

Jack swallowed. “My mom said—”

“I know,” Minerva replied, already reaching for the car door. “She’s with my mother now.”

The gate began to open again, slow and patient.

Minerva stepped back and gestured for him to follow. “Come on,” she said. “Once you’re inside, it’s better.”

Jack wasn’t sure he believed her—but he got out of the car anyway.