“Never, ever,ever. Do you want a cuddle?”
She can see it in his eyes, the way he’s tilting toward acceptance and how it will feel when he’s snuggled into her arms, all needy and soft and wanting. She pushes to her feet to pick him up—
And that’s when her foot goes through the floor.
At first, the only thing that makes sense is the shock of the sudden imbalance, of pain engulfing her up to the ankle as if she’s stepped into a mouth of toothy splinters. She topples to one knee with a scream before she looks down.
The floorboards ripple, serpentine and liquid, as if she’s sunk through the glossy shine of a lake’s edge. The wood has forgotten to be solid and instead stretches and reshapes, devouring her, drawing her down,down.
She’s screaming; this isn’t possible; it can’t be happening. When she grabs at her foot to yank it free, it doesn’t move. Teeth scissor through flesh right down to bone and the boards compress, flattening her foot as if it’s cardboard being broken down before disposal.
Jude has begun to scream, too, matching her pitch, his terror so shrill that she’s screaming at him to stop even as her leg sinks further into the floor. Pain and panic condense, crucify her, and she yanks harder at her leg. But she’s trapped. It’s as if the house is—
Eating her.
Don’t be insane. Don’t think like that. You cannot afford to think like that. You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re normal, you’re—
Feet pound down the hallway and then the nursery door crashesopen with a cataclysmic bang. She feels, more than sees, Bren barrel into the room at breakneck speed, already yelling, “What’s wrong?What happened!”
It’s Jude he snatches first, plucking him up as if he weighs no more than a rag doll as he lunges for Elodie and yanks her out of the house’s jaws. She slithers free, easy as butter. Her screams cut off with a dry-heaving gasp, and she allows herself to be towed to the far side of the nursery. They collapse, all three of them, in a pile under the window, Bren’s arms tight around them both as their lungs heave and they cling to him, sobbing.
“What happened? Elodie— I don’t understand.” He pulls her closer to his chest, glancing wildly from her to the floor.
The floor, smooth and unmarred.
Jude cries wildly, his arms flung around Bren’s neck so he can sob into his filthy, sawdust-covered work shirt.
Elodie yanks up the cuff of her leggings and stares at the crisp indents marching in a line around her ankle. There. It was real. It happened.
“My foot went throughthe goddamn floor.” She doesn’t mean to yell, but she can’t calm down.
“How the…” Bren glances to the floor, unblemished but for the tape of their hopscotch. “Are you okay?”
“No.”Elodie wants to scream at him, but he hasn’t done anything.
Except bring her here, put her in this house—
She digs fingers into her hair and pulls, her wail more frustration than pain, her fury like a hot rash burning the inside of her mouth. Something loosens against her scalp, and she slowly draws her hand from her head with a fistful of curls.
The roots are tipped in blood.
“Oh my fucking god.” Her voice cracks.
Bren tries to say something reassuring, but even he looks freaked out—not by the floor, but by her goddamn hair. Jude buries his face in the crook of Bren’s arm and refuses to loosen his death grip, so Bren simply cradles the back of her son’s curly head as he pushes to his feet and edges toward the hopscotch. He stomps a few times with one boot and then glances at Elodie.
“Was it here?” he says. “Nothing is loose.”
“It wasn’t loose,” Elodie snaps. “I sunk down. It was like… There were teeth down there, and—” She breaks off, knowing how unhinged this sounds.
But he has to believe her. There is no option for him but to believe her.
“Maybe it…” He looks at a loss, but is he even checking the floor thoroughly? Is he standing where she was?
Elodie staggers to her feet, limping as pain closes in a white-hot circlet around her bitten ankle. She holds out her arms for Jude. “Give him to me. He wants me.”
Bren tries to pry Jude’s arms from around his neck, but Jude shrieks and holds tighter, his legs wrapped around Bren’s waist.
“How about I get ice for your ankle,” Bren says. “Come lie down. I’ll fix everything. I just need to figure this out.”
