Page 78 of Finders Keepers

But even as I say it, I slip my phone from my pocket and check it. No unfamiliar calls. No texts. Nothing that would indicate Matt has found us. I take a deep breath, willing my racing heart to slow down.

“You sure?” He steps closer, his voice low enough that Sophie can’t hear. “You went pale for a second there.”

I nod, backing up, pasting on a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Just a weird feeling. It’s gone now.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push either. Instead, he gently says. “If you need anything—”

“I know,” I cut him off. “Thank you.”

The tingling sensation fades as quickly as it came, leaving me wondering if it was ever really there at all. Maybe it’s just my anxiety playing tricks on me. Maybe it’s just what happens when you’ve spent years looking over your shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I’m running, but my legs feel like they’re moving through molasses. The familiar hallway of the old house stretches endlessly before me, growing longer with each desperate step, the cream-colored walls seeming to pulse with my racing heartbeat. Behind me, I hear his footsteps. Heavy boots thump against the hardwood floor, getting closer and closer, each impact sending vibrations through my entire body.

“Bailey!” His voice booms, making me flinch and stumble. “You can’t hide from me forever!” The words slither down my spine like ice water, familiar and terrifying.

My heart pounds against my ribs as I try to reach Sophie’s room, her pink butterfly door sign devastatingly out of reach. She’s crying, I can hear her terrified sobs echoing through the twisted space, but no matter how fast I try to run, I can’t get to her. The hallway keeps stretching, warping, the walls closing in around me until I can barely breathe in the narrowing space.

“Mama!” Sophie’s voice pierces through the walls, small and frightened, the terror in her tone ripping through my soul. “Help me!”

“I’m coming, baby!” I try to scream, but no sound comes out. My throat feels tight, constricted, like hands wrapping around and squeezing tight, fingers digging into my windpipe.

The pictures on the walls begin to fall, glass shattering around me in a deadly rain of shards. Each crash makes me jump, sounding like dishes breaking, the furniture being thrown across our living room. I can smell his whiskey-soaked breath, feel the sting of his words, and taste the copper of blood in my mouth from where I bite my lip trying to stay quiet.

“You’re nothing without me,” Matt’s voice echoes from everywhere and nowhere, the words bouncing off the walls and penetrating my mind like poison.

I trip, my hands and knees hitting the floor hard and slice open from the broken glass, sending sharp jolts of pain through my entire body. When I look down, I’m wearing that blue dress, the one I loved until he tore it to shreds that terrible night, the delicate fabric that once made me feel so pretty, now hanging in tatters. There’s blood on my hands, sticky and warm, but I can’t tell if it’s mine or…

“Sophie!” I call out again, my voice cracking with desperation, crawling now because my legs won’t work anymore. The glass crunches beneath my palms, but I barely feel the cuts. “Baby, where are you? Please answer Mama!”

“Mama’s not coming,” Matt’s voice taunts, closer now, the familiar cruel edge making my stomach turn. “You never could protect her, could you? Just like you never could protect yourself.”

The walls are closing in tighter, the air getting thinner with each ragged breath I take. I can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t move. The room spins violently around me as panic claws at my chest.

His shadow looms over me, stretching across the floor like a dark stain.

I jolt awake with a gasp, my body drenched in cold sweat. My heart is racing so fast I think it might burst from my chest. The bedsheets are tangled around my legs, and for a terrifying moment, I feel trapped, and I swear I smell the distinct smell of whiskey. The phantom scent is so strong it makes my stomach lurch.

“Just a dream,” I whisper, forcing myself to take deep breaths. “It was just a dream. We’re safe. We’re safe.” I repeat the words like a mantra, trying to ground myself in the present moment.

I fumble for my phone on the nightstand, hands shaking so badly I nearly drop it. The screen shows 3:17 am, its harsh blue light cutting through the darkness. My finger hovers over Gavin’s name in my contacts for a moment before I pull back. No. I can’t call him. Not about this, just because I had a nightmare. He deserves the truth, but just not like this.

Instead, I lean over to the other side of the bed to check on Sophie. She’s sleeping peacefully, her hair spread across her pillow and she’s clutching her stuffed animal. Her tiny face is relaxed in sleep, innocent and untouched by the nightmares that plague me. Watching her steady breathing helps calm my racing pulse, reminding me why we fought so hard to get away.

Still, the nightmare has left me too shaken to go back to sleep and suddenly I’m very aware that my throat feels like sandpaper, dry and scratchy from my earlier panic. I need something to drink. I press a soft kiss to Sophie’s forehead, lingering for just a moment and then make my way to the kitchen. The floor is cool under my bare feet, each step reminding me that I’m here, I’m present, I’m okay. My hands are steadier now as I fill the kettle for some chamomile tea, another coping mechanism my therapist suggested during our bi-weekly sessions.

As I wait for the water to boil, I lean against the counter and look out the window, wrapping my arms around myself against the night’s chill. The moon is full tonight, casting silver light across our small backyard, making the dewdrops glisten on the grass. The garden Ms. Lucy helped me plant is thriving, and even in the darkness, I can make out the shapes of the flowers starting to bloom.

This is our life now. Safe. Peaceful. Free. Three words I never thought I’d be able to claim for myself. But the nightmares still come; sharp and sudden, dragging me back to the days when I couldn’t imagine a life beyond Matt’s control. They’re a cruel reminder of everything I once feared I wouldn’t survive long enough to see.

The kettle clicks off, and I pour the hot water over the tea bag, watching as the golden color seeps into the water like watercolor paint spreading across paper. The newly familiar ritual helps ground me further in the present moment; the steam rising in delicate wisps before my face. Matt isn’t here. He can’t hurt us anymore. I’ve filed for divorce, and we’ve started a new life with people who care about us, who see us as we really are.

My mind flits to our time spent with Gavin, how different it feels from anything I’d ever shared with Matt. There’s no possession in it, no demand, no underlying current of control, just warmth and care.

Taking my tea to the living room, I curl up on the couch by the window, pulling my legs beneath me and settling into the plush cushions. I click on the TV, letting the soft background noise fill the quiet house as some random show flickers across the screen. Steam continues to swirl from my mug as I blow gently across the surface, watching the ripples dance before taking a cautious sip of the soothing liquid. The warmth spreads through my chest, and I can feel my muscles starting to relax, the tension of my nightmare slowly melting away.

Sophie’s birthday party is tonight. We’ll be surrounded by people who love us, Ms. Lucy, Mary Beth, Jake, Gavin, Molly and Tommy. All the wonderful souls who’ve helped make this place feel like home. The nightmare may have shaken me, but it can’t touch what we’ve built here, this foundation of friendship and support that grows stronger every day.

I take a deep breath and remind myself that all I can really do is take one day at a time. The concept seems so simple. Yet, it’s something I have to consciously work at. Some days are harder than others, especially after nights like this, but I’m learning to be gentler with myself. Sophie needs me to be strong, but that doesn’t mean I can’t acknowledge when things feel overwhelming. Right now, focusing on today, on her special birthday celebration, that’s what matters most.

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