Chapter 2 - The second lock
The handle moved once.
Stopped against the lock.
Then moved again.
Slowly.
Testing.
I backed away from the bedroom door.
Our bathroom was behind us.
One more locking door.
I took Lily by the hand.
No screaming.
No running.
“Bathroom.”
She followed.
Daniel whispered through the phone:
“Emily?”
I did not answer.
I moved Lily into the bathroom, closed the bedroom-side door behind us, and locked that too.
The house became very quiet.
I could hear Lily breathing.
My own heartbeat.
The faint hum of the bathroom vent even though it was off.
Then something struck the bedroom door.
Not hard enough to break it.
A shoulder?
A hand?
I could not tell.
Lily whispered:
“Is somebody trying to get us?”
I pulled her close.
“I don’t know.”
That was the first promise I refused to make.
I did not say:
Nobody can hurt you.
I did not know.
Instead:
“The police are coming.”
Daniel said:
“They’re less than five minutes away.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m talking to airport police and Columbus dispatch.”
The fact that he had already made those calls should have reassured me.
Instead, a different thought arrived.
How long had he known we were in danger before calling?
I put it away.
Later.
Survive first.
A noise came from the bedroom.
A drawer.
Then another.
The man had entered?
No.
The bedroom door was locked.
Unless the sound came from the hallway study beside our room.
Daniel kept a small home office there.
Desk.
Printer.
Locked file cabinet.
Work laptop sometimes.
A leather messenger bag.
I whispered:
“He’s in your office.”
Daniel made a sound like someone had hit him.
“What?”
“I can hear drawers.”
“Stay where you are.”
“I wasn’t planning a tour.”
A police siren sounded somewhere outside.
Faint.
Then closer.
The noises stopped.
Lily heard it.
“Police?”
“Yes.”
Outside, tires.
A car door.
Then another.
I heard a voice through a loudspeaker.
Could not make out the words.
The hallway remained silent.
Then a crash downstairs.
Glass?
Door?
I held Lily tighter.
Daniel said:
“Emily, officers are at the house. Don’t come out until they identify themselves.”
“I know.”
Three minutes felt like thirty.
Then someone knocked on the bedroom door.
“Columbus Police! Emily Hartman?”
I did not move.
The officer continued:
“Mrs. Hartman, dispatch has your husband on the line. We’ve cleared the hallway. Please answer verbally.”
I said:
“I’m in the bathroom with my daughter.”
“Stay there. We’re coming to the bedroom door.”
They identified themselves again.
One gave a name that dispatch repeated through my phone.
Only then did I unlock the bathroom.
Lily would not release my hand.
The bedroom door was still locked.
The police had entered through another route.
I opened it.
Two officers stood there.
Dark uniforms.
One male.
One female.
Weapons no longer pointed.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Your daughter?”
“No.”
“Did you see the intruder?”
“No.”
“Anyone else supposed to be here?”
“No.”
They escorted us downstairs.
The side door near the garage stood open.
Cold air moved through the house.
Daniel’s office drawers had been dumped.
The small filing cabinet was open.
The cabinet itself had not been forced.
That was strange.
A shelf lay on the floor.
Papers everywhere.
The front and rear doors remained locked.
I looked at the officer.
“How did he get in?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Outside, another unit moved through neighboring yards.
A K-9 officer arrived.
Lily squeezed my hand harder.
I called Daniel.
“Where are you?”
“Still at the airport.”
“Come home.”
“I’m trying.”
“No.”
My voice changed.
“You are not trying. Get in a car and come home.”
He went quiet.
Then:
“I will.”
I looked at the mess in his office.
“What was he looking for?”
May you like
Daniel said nothing.
That was the first moment I knew the danger had started long before the phone rang.
