I watch her cross the driveway, but she keeps looking over her shoulder as if she’s frightened of something.
I don’t understand why.
Father isn’t home.
At least I don’t think he is.
I lose sight of her the moment she steps inside the house.
Then, a few minutes later, a car pulls into the driveway.
My stomach drops.
Father climbs out.
Oh no.
He said she wouldn’t come for me.
But she did.
I’m confused.
I watch father enter the house and immediately run to my bedroom door.
When I try the handle, it doesn’t open.
Right.
It’s locked.
Father does that a lot.
Whenever I misbehave, he locks me in my room for days.
Sometimes longer.
But mum is here now.
Mum is actually here.
A horrible thought creeps into my head.
What if she didn’t come for me after all?
What if she leaves again before I get the chance to see her?
Maybe if I talk to her, she’ll take me with her this time.
I can be good.
I can be friends with the little boy she has now.
I keep pulling at the handle, but it doesn’t matter how hard I try, the door won’t budge.
My eyes move to the balcony.
I rush to the other side of the room, push open the door and step outside.
