Chapter 2 - The Locked Room
Daniel had lived in the house for six years, and he knew every room in it.
At least he thought he did.
“Upstairs where?” he asked.
Vanessa stepped between him and the staircase. “Daniel, this is ridiculous. Noah has been acting out for weeks. Rosa is feeding it.”
Rosa’s expression hardened. “I have never put a single idea in that boy’s head.”
Vanessa laughed once. “Of course you’d say that.”
“Stop.” Daniel’s voice was low now. Dangerous.
Noah started crying again.
Rosa rubbed circles between his shoulder blades. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
Daniel watched his son react to the sound of her voice. His body loosened. His breathing slowed.
Then Daniel looked at Vanessa.
Noah never relaxed around her like that.
He had ignored it because Vanessa always had an explanation. She was tired. He was three. Toddlers were unpredictable. Vanessa had lost patience because Daniel traveled too much. There was always a reason.
But bruises had reasons too.
“Show me the room,” Daniel said.
Vanessa shook her head. “There is no room.”
Rosa looked at Daniel. “There is.”
Vanessa spun toward her. “You’re fired.”
“No,” Daniel said.
Vanessa stared at him.
“No one leaves this house until I understand what my son is talking about.”
He moved toward the stairs.
Vanessa grabbed his sleeve.
“Daniel.”
He looked down at her hand.
She released him.
The upstairs hallway was bright with afternoon sun. Family photographs lined the walls: Daniel holding newborn Noah, Vanessa smiling beside a hospital bed, Christmas mornings, beach trips, birthdays.
A perfect family framed in silver.
Noah began trembling before they reached the west wing.
Daniel felt it from across the hallway.
“Which door?”
Noah pointed.
At the end of the hall stood a narrow linen closet Daniel had opened a hundred times.
Except now a small brass padlock hung from the latch.
Daniel turned slowly.
“Vanessa.”
Her face had lost all color.
“It’s for cleaning supplies.”
Rosa shook her head.
Daniel took the brass key from the decorative bowl on the console table. He did not know why he suddenly knew which key would fit.
Maybe because Vanessa had always kept that bowl exactly there.
The lock clicked open.
Inside, there were no cleaning supplies.
There was a child-sized chair.
A night-light.
May you like
A half-empty bottle of water.
And scratch marks on the inside of the door.
