Chapter 1 - The space under the stairs
The worst thing inside that storage compartment was not the darkness.
It was the organization.
My daughter’s blanket had been folded against one wall.
Her schoolbag rested beside it.
Two pairs of shoes.
A water bottle.
Four empty food containers.
A small plastic spoon.
Anouk had not been shoved under the staircase once during a moment of anger.
Someone had turned it into a place where she was expected to stay.
My name is Maximilian Rourke.
I was forty-two years old.
I had spent most of my adult life building a reputation that made dangerous men lower their voices when I entered a room.
None of it prepared me for seeing my six-year-old daughter crawling toward me on her hands and knees.
“Daddy.”
I lifted her.
She wrapped both legs around my waist.
Her teddy bear lay across the foyer where Seraphina had thrown it.
I asked:
“How long?”
Anouk’s face disappeared against my shoulder.
Seraphina answered for her.
“She is being dramatic.”
I looked at her.
My fiancée.
Fourteen months together.
Eight months living inside my home.
A woman I had planned to marry in December.
“How long?”
Seraphina folded her arms.
“She would not stay in her room.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Anouk whispered:
“Three sleeps.”
May you like
My body went cold.
I had been away for four nights.
