Chapter 1 - The Voice From The Closet
Walter Hayes knew something was wrong before he reached the end of the hallway.
It was 2:00 in the morning.
The kitchen light had been left on, casting a weak amber strip across the hardwood floor. Brian’s front door had been unlocked. No television. No footsteps.
Then Walter saw Lily.
His eight-year-old granddaughter lay curled beside the bedroom doorway in pink pajamas, her face flushed and damp with fever.
“Lily?”
She barely lifted her head.
A muffled cry came from the closet.
Walter’s stomach dropped.
He yanked the door open.
Mason was inside.
The ten-year-old’s wrists were bound, black tape covered his mouth, and terror filled his eyes.
Walter’s face crumpled.
“My God... what did they do to you?”
The front lock clicked.
Brian entered wearing a dark raincoat.
He looked at Lily.
Then Mason.
Then Walter.
No shock.
No rush toward his children.
“The girl wouldn’t stop whining. The boy wouldn’t listen. I’m sick of both of them.”
Walter slowly turned.
Brian shrugged.
“They’re still alive!”
Walter exploded.
He grabbed Brian’s jacket and drove him backward into the wall.
Then he slapped him hard across the face.
“Stay away from them.”
Walter immediately stepped between Brian and the children.
He removed the tape from Mason’s mouth.
The boy dragged in a trembling breath.
Then he looked directly at his grandfather.
“Grandpa... Dad didn’t tie me up. Mom did.”
Walter froze.
Brian went pale.
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
Lily weakly grabbed the back of Walter’s jacket.
Walter looked toward the dark staircase.
Brian did too.
And for the first time since entering the house, Brian looked afraid.
May you like
Not of Walter.
Of whoever was still upstairs.
