Chapter 2 - The Voice Behind the Closet Door
For several seconds, I could not move.
Lily was trembling against my chest.
The closet knob turned once.
Stopped.
Then a child’s voice came through the door.
“Grandpa?”
Mason.
My ten-year-old grandson.
I carried Lily into the bedroom and placed her beneath the blanket, keeping the emergency dispatcher on speaker. Then I crossed the hallway and pulled the closet handle.
Locked.
“Mason, move away from the door.”
“My tablet died.”
His voice was thin and ragged.
“How long have you been in there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No. I’m just scared.”
I struck the door with the side of my fist.
“Brian!” I shouted as if my son might somehow still be inside the house. “What did you do?”
Only silence answered.
I tried the emergency key.
It did not fit the closet lock.
Behind me, Lily began crying without making much sound. The tears simply ran from the corners of her eyes into her hair.
I returned to the bedside and picked up the prescription bottle.
“What did they give you?”
She shook her head.
“Mom said it was medicine.”
“For what?”
“So I’d sleep.”
The dispatcher asked me to describe the bottle and Lily’s condition. I did the best I could without reading the damaged label clearly.
Then my phone vibrated.
A voicemail from Brian.
It had arrived less than an hour earlier, but I had not heard the notification.
I pressed play.
My son’s voice filled the bedroom.
Cold.
Defensive.
Almost irritated.
“Dad, don’t overreact if Lily calls you. She was being difficult, and Mason needed consequences too. It was discipline. We’ll deal with it when we get home.”
I looked toward the closet.
Discipline.
A drugged eight-year-old abandoned in a house.
A ten-year-old locked in darkness.
Two parents flying hundreds of miles away.
The fear inside me hardened into something much colder.
I returned to the closet door.
“Mason, listen to me. I’m getting you out.”
“I tried recording them,” he whispered.
My hand stopped on the handle.
“Recording what?”
“The argument.”
“What argument?”
“About the papers.”
Behind me, Lily whimpered.
The sirens were still distant.
I pulled harder on the door.
The frame shifted slightly but held.
“What papers, Mason?”
“The ones with Lily’s name.”
I looked back at the folded note.
At the medicine bottle.
At the keys.
Something larger was hiding inside that house.
Something Brian and Marissa believed two frightened children could not explain.
I stepped back.
May you like
Then drove my shoulder into the door.
The wood cracked.
