Chapter 2 - Three Minutes
Claire’s eyes snapped to the phone.
“How?” she whispered.
The dispatcher lowered her voice. “A second call came in from your address. A man said everything was fine and that the first call was accidental.”
Claire looked at the door.
Grant.
He must have heard her speaking before she locked herself in.
“No,” Claire said. “It wasn’t accidental.”
“I know. Stay with me.”
Outside, metal touched metal.
The key entered the lock.
Claire moved without thinking. She slid backward across the tile, keeping Noah against her chest, and wedged herself beside the vanity where the opening door would not immediately expose her.
The lock turned halfway.
Then stopped.
Grant muttered something under his breath.
Claire remembered why. Months earlier, the bathroom lock had jammed, and Grant had “temporarily” installed a cheap replacement. The outside emergency slot still worked, but the old latch sometimes caught if pressure was placed on the door.
Claire stretched one leg forward and pressed her heel against the bottom edge.
“Open it,” Diane said outside.
“I’m trying.”
The door pushed inward half an inch.
Claire pushed back.
Noah stirred and let out a thin cry.
Grant’s voice changed.
“Claire, he needs to be with someone calm.”
She almost laughed.
Instead, she whispered to the dispatcher, “He’s trying the door.”
“I hear it.”
Another voice joined the call—a male officer asking for confirmation of the house number.
Claire gave it.
Grant heard her.
Silence filled the hallway.
Then he spoke through the door.
“Who are you talking to?”
Claire said nothing.
Diane’s shadow shifted.
Grant tried the key again, harder this time.
The latch groaned.
Claire’s arms began to shake from holding Noah so tightly, so she forced herself to loosen her grip.
“Easy,” she whispered against his hair. “Mommy’s got you.”
The dispatcher said, “Officers are less than three minutes away.”
Three minutes.
Claire had never understood how long three minutes could be.
Grant stepped back from the door.
For a moment, she thought he had given up.
Then she heard the linen closet open in the hallway.
A metal object scraped across a shelf.
Diane whispered, “Not that. It’ll leave marks.”
Claire’s stomach turned.
Grant answered, “Then get the screwdriver.”
Claire looked around the bathroom.
No window.
No second exit.
Just a locked door they were trying to take apart.
May you like
Then the dispatcher said something that made Claire’s blood run cold.
“Claire, the patrol unit just reported someone standing in your driveway trying to wave them away.”
