“Lily and Lucy,” I repeated. “All right. Let’s go inside.”
I avoided looking toward the neighboring house as I guided them up my driveway.
Once inside, I locked the front door.
The sound of the deadbolt made both girls flinch.
That frightened me more than anything else.
I took them into the kitchen, gave them water, and placed crackers and sliced strawberries on the table.
They stared at the food without touching it until I sat several feet away.
“You can eat,” I assured them.
Lucy grabbed a strawberry.
Lily followed.
Within seconds, they were eating so quickly I began wondering when they’d last had a proper meal.
“Where’s your mommy?” I asked.
Both girls stopped chewing.
Lily looked toward Lucy.
“Is your mommy next door?”
Nothing.
“Your daddy?”
Lucy shook her head.
That was when it hit me that I had no idea who the man and woman next door really were.
I reached toward my phone.
Lily jumped from her chair.
“No!”
I stopped.
“It’s okay.”
“No police,” she said, panic rising in her voice.
“Why not?”
“He said police take bad girls away.”
My stomach twisted.
“Who said that?”
Lily’s eyes filled with tears.
“Him.”
Before I could ask more, a heavy thud came from next door.
Both girls dropped beneath the table.
A moment later, a man’s voice carried faintly through the open window.
“Lily! Lucy!”
The twins started shaking.
I shut the window and pulled the curtain.
“Stay here,” I whispered.
I went to the front room and looked through a narrow gap in the blinds.
The man I’d seen in the driveway stood on his porch.
His expression was different now.
Angry.
He hurried down the steps, looked from side to side, and began searching the yard.
Then he moved toward the curb.
Toward my trash can.
I stepped away from the window.
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