Chapter 53: NOW - The Safe Room

Every instinct screams at me to move; to act. I need to do something to keep my child safe, but I’m a beast trapped in a cage, yelling at a screen. Peter storms down the corridor and rushes into every room upstairs. I hear the doors banging open, his large feet thumping against the floorboards. I shove my thumbnail in between my teeth, pacing back and forth.

The bathroom door locks. Thank God. While Sophie was under five, I didn’t put a lock on the door but once I felt like she was old enough to work it, I made sure it was there and in her reach. I never put a camera in the bathroom out of some primal need for privacy.

All I can think is, please, please, please. Let her be safe. Her name a refrain in my mind. Sophie, Sophie, Sophie.

She’s smart and cautious and everything she needs to be to survive. Come on, Sophie. Come on, you can do this. I picture her opening the narrow bathroom window, clipping on the ladder and squeezing her tiny body out. The ladder is too big for a window like that, which means it might sag. But she doesn’t weigh much. Maybe she can still shimmy down without too much trouble.

Once Peter has checked every room, I watch his attention turn to the bathroom door.

No.

My heart sinks.

He tries the door and finds it locked. Then he takes a step back and kicks it.

“Let me in right now, Sophie,” he screams.

Even through the camera I see the heat along his neck, the way his tendons stick out. His hair flops back and forth with each violent shout. He throws his body against the wood.

“Open this fucking door.”

A visceral growl rolls out from my throat. Get away from my daughter, I think. It takes all my willpower not to slam a fist into the screen. But I need the monitors. I need to make sure she’s safe.

Every crash and thud makes me wince as Peter slams against the door. Sweat trickles down my temples and I can hardly breathe. When the lock gives way and he tumbles into the bathroom I scream out loud, unable to keep in my horror.

Then silence.

I don’t move. My hand is over my mouth, waiting.

Did she get out? Is she outside?

I hear something breaking. I can’t stop thinking about what happened to Emily. He may have even killed her because there’s no Emily on the cameras, she’s still on the kitchen floor, either dead or passed out. I hear the smash of glass. Is he hurting my daughter? Please, no. Please.

I want to place my fingers over my eyes, I’m too scared to look.

What has he done to her?