Chapter 1 - FIVE DAYS
I had been hitting the padlock for less than thirty seconds when my mother tried to pull me away.
Rain came sideways across the backyard, cold enough to sting my face.
My jacket was soaked through.
The hammer slipped once in my hand.
Inside the shed, something scratched again.
Weak.
Irregular.
Then stopped.
“Kristin!”
Nothing.
I raised the hammer.
Georgia grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t open that door!”
I turned.
My mother stood barefoot inside old slippers, cardigan hanging open, gray hair plastered against her forehead.
Her eyes were wild.
Not confused.
Afraid.
“Why?”
“You don’t know what she did.”
“What did Kristin do?”
“She went through things that weren’t hers.”
My grip tightened around the hammer.
“What is inside?”
Georgia stepped between me and the door.
“Come into the house.”
“No.”
“Elias.”
“What is inside?”
Her mouth tightened.
I looked down.
That was when I saw the fabric.
Blue.
Caught beneath the bottom edge of the padlock bracket.
Kristin owned one blue maternity dress.
She wore it the morning I left for Philadelphia five days earlier.
My lungs emptied.
I dropped the hammer.
“Kristin?”
Scratching.
Then the faintest sound.
Not a word.
A sob.
I shoved Georgia aside without thinking.
She stumbled backward into the rain.
I pressed my ear against the door.
“Kristin!”
Something hit the other side once.
My hands started shaking.
Georgia came toward me.
“She locked herself in.”
I stared at her.
“The padlock is outside.”
“She was hysterical.”
“The lock is outside.”
“She wouldn’t listen.”
I pulled out my phone.
Georgia lunged for it.
I turned away.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“My pregnant wife is locked inside a shed.”
Georgia shouted:
“No!”
I gave the address.
“She’s four months pregnant. I don’t know how long she’s been in there.”
A weak voice came through the wood.
“Elias…”
My knees nearly gave out.
“I’m here!”
Georgia grabbed my shoulder.
“She’s manipulating you.”
I looked directly at my mother.
“How long?”
“What?”
“How long has she been in there?”
Georgia stopped.
That was enough.
“How long?”
“She needed to calm down.”
“How long?”
Rain poured off my face.
Georgia whispered:
“Since Monday.”
It was Saturday.
Five days.
I stepped back as though she had struck me.
“You locked my pregnant wife in a shed for five days?”
“She had water.”
Kristin made a sound from inside.
Not a word.
Pain.
I raised the hammer again.
The padlock was hardened steel.
The bracket bent but would not break.
I attacked the hinges next.
“Stop!” Georgia screamed.
“Get away from me.”
“You’re destroying my property.”
“My wife is inside!”
I hit the hinge.
Once.
Twice.
The frame cracked.
Sirens approached.
I dropped the hammer before officers came through the gate.
Two uniforms ran toward us.
Officer Grant carried bolt cutters.
Officer Miller followed.
“She’s in there,” I said.
Grant looked at the lock.
“Anyone armed inside?”
“No.”
Georgia shouted:
“She’s unstable!”
Miller turned.
“Ma’am, move away from the structure.”
“She’s been going through my private papers.”
“Move away.”
Georgia backed up.
Grant clamped the cutters around the shackle.
I pressed my ear against the door.
“Kristin, police are here.”
“I’m cold.”
Her voice barely existed.
“I know.”
“My baby…”
“We’re getting you out.”
The lock snapped.
I pulled the door open.
The smell hit first.
Wet wood.
Urine.
Mold.
Cold earth.
Kristin lay curled beside an overturned garden chair.
Her blue dress was stained dark with dirt. Her bare feet were mud-streaked and swollen. Her hair clung to her face.
She looked too small.
Her hands were wrapped over the curve of her stomach.
I dropped beside her.
“Kristin.”
She opened her eyes.
For one second she did not seem to recognize me.
Then:
“Elias…”
I took off my soaked jacket anyway and reached for a dry moving blanket from a shelf.
Officer Miller stopped me.
“That one’s wet.”
She pulled an emergency blanket from her kit.
Grant called for paramedics.
I touched Kristin’s face.
Cold.
Too cold.
“How long?”
Tears moved sideways across her temples.
“She left me here for five days.”
Behind me, Georgia made an irritated sound.
“I meant to teach her a lesson. Releasing her slipped my mind.”
I turned.
I had never hated anyone that quickly.
Officer Grant moved between us before I stood.
“Stay with your wife.”
Good instruction.
I obeyed.
Kristin grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
Miller swept her flashlight around the shed.
Broken shelving.
Old furniture.
Storage boxes.
A camping cooler.
A bucket.
Then her beam moved toward several tall cabinets pushed unnaturally against the rear wall.
She stopped.
“Grant.”
He looked.
“You need to see what else is in here.”
Georgia’s face drained.
Grant went toward the cabinets.
“What?”
Miller pointed.
Behind them, at floor level, was a narrow seam in the wall.
A steel hinge.
Then something inside clicked.
Mechanical.
Like a relay switching on.
Georgia whispered:
“No.”
Grant turned toward her.
“What’s behind that wall?”
She did not answer.
May you like
Kristin clutched my shirt.
And I felt her start shaking harder.
