As the door closes, my heart pounds, and I reach out to him. Dax catches my forearms and pushes them back toward me.
He shakes his head and whispers, “You’re safer if I go now. I don’t want anyone to see you.”
With no control, I whimper. He frowns and wipes his thumb under my eye.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, closing the armoire doors.
Dax’s heavy boots stomp across the hardwood, leaving my bedroom. “Cleared this wing,” he calls out. “Let’s move on.”
Surrounded by my clothes and hugging my knees to my chest, I listen to my heavy breathing. Since Dax left, there are no other sounds in the room, but I don’t budge an inch. Sickness vortexes in my stomach, my skin grows icy, and I sink further inward.
With my wet hair soaking my robe, the chattering of my teeth pulses pain throughout my jaw. I quickly lose the robe and pull on the nearest sweater and shorts. When I look down at the pink sweater with the words ‘Dream Girl’ in white stitching, my face crumples in tears.
It’s the sweatshirt Dax made me buy at the mall.
My hand moves to tug on my bracelet, but it’s not there. A sob moans out of me, and my head falls between my knees. I don’t know how long I've sat in this position. Time is in a vacuum until noises return to the world outside this closet.
“Vanessa!” my father’s voice booms from the hallway. Urgency thunders in his footsteps as he races into my bedroom.
I squeak and fold my arms around me, remembering how it felt when The Scorpions walked past my bathroom.
“Vanessa?” Dad repeats, fear catching in his voice.
I open my mouth to make my presence known, but only a whimper comes out.
It’s enough. Dad nears the armoire. “Ness? Honey?”
I whimper again, and Dad opens the door.
He exhales with relief. “Oh, darling, thank God.” He lifts me out of the armoire, and I cling to him without the energy to stand on my own.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he coos, stroking my hair. “Oh, darling, you must’ve been so scared.”
“I’m… I’m okay.” My teeth chatter between the words. “They didn’t hurt me.”
Stress pinches his features. “They saw you?”
I quickly shake my head. “No. I saw them and hid.”
Dad breathes out with more relief. “Good girl. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”
Dad walks me down to the first floor to join everyone else. He tells me everyone has been accounted for, even my masseuse.
I gasp. “Tonya was still here?”
Dad nods. “She was tied up with the others. An officer has driven her home.”
I gag, moaning with guilt.
He hushes me, rubbing my back. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
Dad brings me into the parlor where my mother and brother stand apart. Before my brother can move, my mother rampages at me.
“Why were you still home?” my mother shouts, towering over my slouched body. “You were supposed to be on your way to meet me.”
“Hilda!” Dad barks.
Mom shakes her fists. “If she had met me, she wouldn’t have been here when those monsters entered our home.”
