Chapter 2 - The Locked Door
My brother stared at the knife on the floor.
The air in the room felt thick and suffocating.
His mother was leaning against the wall, holding her jaw where he had struck her.
His sister scrambled on the floor, desperately reaching for the switchblade.
My brother kicked the knife away before her fingers could brush the handle.
He stood between them and me, acting as a human shield.
He told me to take his daughter and get out of the house immediately.
I nodded, struggling to my feet while keeping my niece pressed tightly against my chest.
Every movement sent a shockwave of pain through my collarbone.
The baby whimpered, her tiny hands clutching the ruined fabric of my blood-soaked shirt.
I staggered backward toward the hallway.
The grandmother screamed that we were making a terrible mistake.
She claimed the bandage had to come off right now.
My brother roared at her to shut up and stay back.
I turned and ran down the narrow hallway toward the front door.
My vision blurred from the blood dripping into my eye, but adrenaline kept my legs moving.
I reached the heavy oak door and grabbed the brass handle.
I twisted it hard, expecting to burst out into the cool evening air.
The handle wouldn't budge.
I tried again, rattling it with all my remaining strength.
It was locked from the outside.
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A chilling realization washed over me.
Someone else had to be in the house with us.
