Page 73 of Saving Sophia

Sucker. Those keys were mine.

He whispered through the kiss, “Seven.”

Shoot!

I pulled away, my lips still buzzing from his delicious, deceptive kiss and ran back to the door in my socks.

The key turned, the bolt catching and grinding in its hole, resisting the key.

“Eight.”

Finally, it gave way, pulling back with an aggravated clacking sound. I was in.

I ran across to the fireplace, my eyes darting around the room, looking for the perfect spot. Spare room? Bathroom? Too obvious. Kitchen? Too open. My brain fizzed with adrenaline.

“Nine.”

Focus.

A tiny broom closet near the hall. Could I even fit? Maybe, if I tucked up very small.

It wasn’t ideal, but it could work.

“Ten.”

The closet would have to do. I sprinted toward it.

It was empty except for one old broom and a dustpan, so I could fit, but my panting would give me away if I didn’t control it. The bottom half of the door was solid, the top half had slats, creating diagonal lines of light and shadows above me.

I curled in tight, trying to be small.

The porch creaked with his footsteps. The front door closed slowly. Snick.

Like that night.

Hiding in my bedroom closet.

Listening to a monster creep closer and closer.

Panic bubbled in my chest.

“Ready or not, here I come.”

Ethan’s voice.

Playing a game.

He wasn’t going to hurt me.

My brain got it, but my body suddenly did not.

“Where are you, little Sophie?” His voice was low, moving farther away.

My chest burned, and I realized I had clamped my hand over my mouth to stop my breath.

My throat closed up. Dots of light danced behind my tightly closed eyes.

I couldn’t move. A whimpering moan filled the closet. I didn’t even recognize it was me.

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