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I do and swallow the bile rising in the back of my throat.
“Put your phone on your lap where I can see it.”
I pluck it from the bag hanging over my shoulder and do as he asks.
“Are you okay back there, Hannah?” I wonder, trying to smile for her.
She swings her feet, totally oblivious. If I have my way, she’ll stay oblivious.
“She’s fine,” he answers for her, starting the car, and driving away from any hope of safety.
I run my fingers through my hair, desperate to feel something real.
This is a bad dream.
I’ll wake up.
I close my eyes.
When I open them again, I want to be sick.
I’m not dreaming.
I risk glancing at him. His shoulders square, hands rattling on the steering wheel.
“Rob,” I start, hoping he will hear me out.
“Jesus, you’re a talker, aren’t you?”
I shut my mouth.
I stay quiet.
I swallow the scream bubbling.
It’s no use.
He’s gone too far.
So, I stay calm.
I need to get Hannah out of this.
Think, Claire.
Nothing.
I sit in silence as he chats to Hannah about her summer, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“When are we getting ice-cream, Daddy?”
“Soon, princess,” he promises.
He’s lying.
It’s twenty minutes before he pulls up outside a beautiful home. There’s a bike on the lawn, and flower beds in full bloom. But the curtains are drawn on all the windows, and I know it’s not the only cause of darkness inside.
It’s dark outside now too.
