“Your uncle?”
“No.”
“Does your mommy know you’re here?”
Lily’s face crumpled.
“Mommy can’t come.”
Cold spread through me.
“Why can’t she come?”
The twins looked at each other.
Then Lucy whispered the most terrifying thing I had ever heard.
“Because Grant locked her downstairs.”
For several seconds, I could only stare.
“Grant locked your mommy downstairs?” I repeated.
Lily nodded.
“She told us to be quiet.”
Every instinct told me to call police immediately, but I remembered Lily’s panic when I reached for my phone.
I held my hand out beneath the table.
“Listen to me. Police do not take good girls away for asking for help. Grant lied to you.”
Lily studied me.
“Really?”
“Really.”
I waited until she gave a tiny nod.
Then I stepped into the pantry, leaving the door cracked so I could still see them, and called 911.
I quietly explained that two three-year-old girls from next door were inside my home and claimed their mother had been locked downstairs.
The dispatcher told me to stay inside, lock every door, and not confront Grant.
I had just ended the call when someone struck my front door again.
This time, Grant didn’t knock.
He slammed his fist against it.
“Carla!”
My blood went cold.
I had never told him my name.
“Open the door.”
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