Skip to content 
That meant one thing — he suspected something.
“I forgot my wallet,” he called out casually.
No answer.
His footsteps stopped.
Silence.
Then they started again — slower this time, moving toward the living room.
I held Caleb tighter, pressing my hand gently over his mouth so he wouldn’t make a sound.
Ethan stepped closer.
I could hear his breathing now.
Then his voice — quieter, sharper.
“…That’s strange.”
My heart pounded so loud I was sure he could hear it through the walls.
His footsteps moved faster now.
Closer.
Then—
“They’re not here.”
The words came out low, dangerous.
A drawer slammed open. Then another.
Panic crept into his movements.
“Where are you?” he muttered.
I didn’t wait anymore.
With shaking hands, I pressed the call button.
I whispered as quietly as I could, “Please… my husband tried to poison us… he’s here…”
The operator responded immediately, calm but urgent, asking for our address. I gave it as fast as I could, my voice barely steady.
Ethan’s footsteps were coming down the hallway now.
Closer.
Closer.
The closet door handle twitched.
I froze.
Caleb’s fingers dug into my arm.
The handle turned slowly.
And then—
Sirens.
Loud. Close. Getting closer by the second.
Ethan stopped.
The handle went still.
For a moment, everything was silent.
Then I heard him curse under his breath.
Footsteps — fast this time — running back toward the front door.
The door slammed.
I didn’t move.
Not yet.
The operator’s voice was still in my ear, telling me help was arriving.