Chapter 5 - The ScrewdriverNo pounding. No shouting. No angry breathing.
Nothing.
Through the narrow crack under the bathroom door, I saw Evelyn's shadow move away from the threshold. I heard the faint shuck-shuck of her slippers walking down the carpeted hallway toward the kitchen.
For one desperate, foolish second, my heart lifted. I thought they were giving up. I thought the fear of the police was driving them out of the house.
Then I heard a kitchen cabinet open. A heavy cutlery drawer slammed shut. Fast, purposeful footsteps returned up the stairs.
Mark had not left the doorway. He was still standing directly on the other side of the wood, his shadow blocking the light from the hallway.
"Last chance, Clara," he said. His voice was dead, devoid of anger, devoid of affection. It was the voice of a man who had decided to finish what he started.
I didn't answer. I couldn't. My throat was locked in terror.
Through the gap beneath the door, I saw Evelyn's shadow stop right beside his.
Then came a small, metallic sound. A tiny clink as metal met the hardwood floor.
Evelyn hadn't gone down to call an attorney. She hadn't gone down to pack a bag.
She had brought him a flathead screwdriver from the garage utility drawer.
I stared down at the center of the bathroom door handle. In the middle of the brass knob was a small, round privacy release slot—the kind designed to allow parents to unlock a bathroom from the outside in an emergency.
I watched in horror as a thin piece of metal slid smoothly into the hole.
Clack.
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The interior mechanism caught. And slowly, agonizingly, the handle began to turn.
Here are Chapters 6 through 10, plunging into the high-tension breach, the arrival of law enforcement, and the beginning of the legal war against Mark and Evelyn.
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