“Judy, stop?—”
I don’t listen as my legs carry me the rest of the way to the final door.
Standing before it, I inhale deeply, and my fingers close around the cold metal handle.
It doesn’t move.
“It’s locked,” I say as Megan joins me.
“I told you this is a restricted area. We don’t want anyone going in these rooms and getting hurt. Contractors are in and out. It’s a liability thing.” Her hand touches my elbow. “We shouldn’t even be here. And I need to get back to work. I’ve got paperwork waiting.”
“Right.” Still, my hand tests the handle again. It’s locked tight.
Then a sound stops me cold.
Was that a sob?
“Judy, we really need to?—”
I press my ear against the wood. “Shh! Someone’s in there…crying. Hello? Is anyone there?”
The soft sobbing continues.
“Did you hear that? Someone’s trapped! Do you have a key?”
“No, I don’t. Don’t worry, no one is in there.” Megan’s voice is a touch impatient now. “It’s probably something in the pipes.” She tries to take my hand but the sound comes again, a broken little sob.
“Hello?” I call, knocking. “Are you all right?”
No response.
I exchange a glance with Megan before knocking harder.
For a long second there is nothing.
Nothing. Then?—
A voice, scratchy and faint.
“Mom?”
THIRTY-ONE
I form fists and slam them into the wooden door, the pain like shockwaves through my fingers and the rest of my arms as Megan closes in.
“Sadie!” My voice breaks with desperation. “Sadie, are you in there? It’s Mom.”
“Mom!” the voice comes again. The voice that has only lived in my dreams for six months.
I step away from the door. “That’s Sadie’s voice,” I plead.
Megan’s hand settles between my shoulder blades. “Judy, love, your brain is desperate to find her.” Her voice is coming from far away, muffled and distorted. She moves me away from the door. “You’re projecting what you want to hear. Your brain has been looking for your daughter everywhere, especially in this place where she lived last.”
I don’t want to believe her. But what if she’s right?
I don’t feel like myself. My body is slowly betraying me, my limbs growing heavier, my head buzzing as though a swarm of bees is trapped inside.
Was her voice a product of my imagination? Could the weakness and the hunger be making my mind play tricks on me?
