Chapter 2: The Voice Upstairs
The footsteps stopped just outside Lily's bedroom.
I held my breath beneath the bed, every muscle locked in place.
The bedroom door creaked open.
Sunlight spilled across the hardwood floor, stopping inches from my face. I could only see two pairs of shoes.
One belonged to Lily.
The other belonged to a man.
His sneakers were old and badly scuffed, with dried mud packed into the soles. He wore faded blue jeans. Judging by the way he moved, he was much taller than I had imagined.
Lily closed the bedroom door behind them.
"You made it," she whispered.
"I told you I would," the man replied calmly.
His voice was deep but strangely gentle.
Not angry.
Not threatening.
That somehow made it even worse.
I pressed my hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound.
"Did your mom leave?" he asked.
"She left about twenty minutes ago," Lily answered. "She'll be at work until after five."
"Good."
The man walked farther into the room.
His shoes stopped less than three feet from where I was hiding.
One wrong move...
One accidental cough...
And he would find me.
I barely dared to breathe.
"You remembered what I told you?" he asked.
Lily nodded.
"I deleted everything."
"And the notebook?"
"I burned it."
"Good girl."
A chill raced down my spine.
What notebook?
Why would she burn anything?
The man continued speaking in a quiet, controlled tone.
"Did anyone ask questions?"
"Our neighbor looked at me yesterday."
"And?"
"I don't think she knows anything."
"Thinking isn't enough."
His voice hardened.
"If someone starts paying attention, everything falls apart."
My pulse pounded in my ears.
Everything?
What exactly were they hiding?
Lily sounded nervous.
"I don't want to do this anymore."
The room fell silent.
When the man spoke again, his voice was almost sympathetic.
"You don't have a choice."
"I know..."
"No, Lily."
His footsteps moved closer to her.
"You really don't."
For a second, I thought about crawling out from under the bed.
I wanted to grab my daughter and run.
But I didn't know who this man was.
I didn't know whether he had a weapon.
If I acted too soon, I might put Lily in even greater danger.
So I stayed where I was.
Frozen.
The man unzipped a backpack.
I heard paper sliding across the desk.
"Here's the new list."
Lily inhaled sharply.
"There are more?"
"There are always more."
"I can't."
"You can."
"I feel sick every time."
"You'll get used to it."
Those words made my stomach twist.
"What if someone gets hurt?" Lily asked quietly.
The man laughed.
"People only get hurt when they don't follow instructions."
I felt my fingernails dig into my palms.
Whatever this was, my daughter wasn't acting like a willing partner.
She sounded terrified.
The man lowered his voice.
"Look at me."
A long pause followed.
"You remember what happened to your father?"
My heart stopped.
My ex-husband, Daniel, had died in a car accident eighteen months earlier.
At least...
That's what everyone believed.
Lily's voice trembled.
"You promised you wouldn't talk about him."
"I promised nothing."
"You said if I did everything you asked..."
"I said I'd keep certain secrets buried."
Silence filled the room.
Then I heard something that made my blood run cold.
Lily started crying.
Softly.
Trying not to let anyone hear.
"I miss him," she whispered.
"So do I."
The man's answer came too quickly.
Too personally.
He knew Daniel.
Or wanted Lily to believe he did.
Either possibility terrified me.
The man placed something on the desk.
I couldn't see it, but it sounded metallic.
A key.
"Tomorrow," he said. "Same time."
"What if Mom stays home?"
"She won't."
"How do you know?"
"Because people like your mother live predictable lives."
I clenched my jaw.
He had been watching me.
Studying my routine.
He knew exactly when I left.
Exactly when I came home.
Exactly when my daughter would be alone.
The realization sent ice through my veins.
This hadn't started by accident.
Someone had been planning this for a long time.
The man zipped up his backpack.
"Remember," he said. "If you tell anyone what we've been doing..."
"I know."
"No."
His tone turned cold.
"Say it."
Lily hesitated.
Then, through quiet sobs, she repeated the words as though she had memorized them.
"If I tell anyone..."
"...your mother dies first."
Every drop of blood seemed to drain from my body.
My vision blurred.
I had spent the last twenty-four hours wondering if my daughter had been lying to me.
Now I understood the truth.
She hadn't been hiding a secret from me.
She had been trying to protect me.
The man turned toward the bedroom door.
His footsteps grew closer.
Closer.
Then they stopped.
Right beside the bed.
For one horrifying second, I thought he had discovered me.
Instead, he knelt down.
A rough hand reached underneath the bed frame.
May you like
Searching.
His fingers stopped less than six inches from my face.
