Chapter 1 - The Hand Under the Clothes
Lucy’s scream tore through the bright kitchen.
“Mommy! My hands hurt!”
Emma dropped everything and ran.
Lucy was crouched beside a large gray laundry basket. Her beige dress was wrinkled from kneeling on the dark wood floor, and both hands were covered in a wet red substance.
She was crying so hard she could barely breathe.
Eleanor arrived from the opposite doorway.
Instead of asking what happened, she grabbed Lucy and pulled her toward the washbasin.
“Hurry up and wash it, you lazy brat!”
Lucy fought against her.
Emma saw Eleanor forcing the child’s hands toward the water and snapped.
“Lucy!”
She rushed forward, knocked Eleanor away, and lifted her daughter into her arms.
Lucy wrapped both arms around Emma’s neck.
“My hands sting.”
Emma stared at the red liquid.
It did not look exactly like blood.
Too bright.
Too thin.
And there was a faint metallic smell beneath something chemical.
She looked at Eleanor.
“What’s in that basin?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you scared?”
“I’m not.”
Emma started toward the open back door.
Lucy suddenly looked over her shoulder.
“Mommy…”
Emma stopped.
“What?”
“It moved.”
The laundry basket sat perfectly still.
Then a shirt shifted.
A towel lifted slightly.
Emma’s face drained.
Something beneath the clothes pushed upward.
A small hand appeared.
The fingers were smeared with the same red liquid.
Eleanor rushed toward the basket.
“No!”
Emma stepped backward with Lucy.
“What is that?”
Eleanor froze.
Her face changed from anger to panic.
“You weren’t supposed to find it.”
Emma stared.
“Find what?”
The little hand moved again.
Then a weak voice came from beneath the laundry.
“Emma…”
Emma nearly dropped to her knees.
She knew that voice.
It belonged to her older daughter.
May you like
Ava.
The daughter Emma had been told died six years ago.
