“I know,” I whisper, kissing her hair, kissing her forehead, like if I press love into her skin hard enough it will protect her.
A loud bang hits the bedroom door.
The chair jumps. The handle rattles.
I stumble backward, searching the room with wild eyes. Closet. Under the bed. Behind the curtains.
There’s nowhere that feels real.
Another hit.
The doorframe cracks. The chair scrapes across the floor.
Lily’s crying becomes thin, panicked, like she can’t get enough air.
“Shh,” I whisper again, tears hot in my eyes. “Please, baby. Please.”
I drop to my knees and shove Lily under the bed as gently as I can, my hands shaking so badly I almost can’t do it. It’s a stupid hiding place. He’ll check it. He’ll find her.
But the instinct is stronger than logic.Hide the child. Put her somewhere small. Somewhere your body can cover.
“Stay,” I plead, face close to hers in the dim space. “Stay right here. Don’t come out. No matter what. Okay?”
Her eyes are huge. Wet. She nods, silent, thumb in her mouth.
I slide back out, heart hammering, and crawl halfway under the bed myself so I’m between her and the room. My phone is still in my hand. I press it to my ear again. The screen shows the call still trying to connect.
Come on. Come on.
He hits the bedroom door again. The chair finally gives. It skids away with a screech. The handle jerks down.
For one frozen second, everything goes quiet, like the building is holding its breath.
Then the door swings inward.
Footsteps enter. Slow now. Confident. Like he knows he has time.
I clamp a hand over my mouth to stop the sound that wants to break out of me. My lungs burn. My whole body shakes under the bed, muscles screaming to run even though there’s nowhere to go.
A shadow crosses the floor.
I see his shoes. Close enough that if I reached out, my fingers could touch them.
Lily makes the smallest sound, a tiny hiccup, and my blood turns to ice.
The shadow stops. He shifts his weight, like he’s listening.
And I realize, with terrifying clarity, that the only thing worse than being found is what happens the second he decides we’re not worth keeping alive.
A hand clamps around my ankle.
I don’t even get a chance to scream before I’m dragged out from under the bed hard enough that my shoulder slams into the frame. The air leaves my lungs in a sharp burst. My fingers claw uselessly at the floor as I twist, reaching back blindly for Lily.
“No—please—” I gasp.
The man hauls me upright by my arm, jerking me to my feet. My vision spots. My head rings. I’m still scrambling, still trying to break free, when movement in the doorway freezes everything.
Another figure steps in.
