Daniel and I dated for a year before we got married.
We had a small wedding by a lake. Just family. Grace wore a flower crown and asked about cake every ten minutes. Emily fell asleep before sunset. Daniel looked happy, but careful, like he didn’t trust happy things to stay.
After the wedding, I moved into his house.
That sounded reasonable. So I let it go.
It was warm and beautiful. Big kitchen. Wraparound porch. Toys everywhere. Family photos on the walls.
And one locked basement door.
I noticed it in the first week.
“Why is that always locked?” I asked one night.
Daniel kept drying dishes. “Storage. A lot of junk. Old tools, boxes, things like that. I don’t want the girls getting hurt.”
That sounded reasonable. So I let it go.
Once I found Grace sitting on the hallway floor, staring at the knob.
Still, I noticed things.
Sometimes Grace looked at the basement door when she thought no one could see her.
Sometimes Emily stood near it for a second and then hurried away.
Once I found Grace sitting on the hallway floor, staring at the knob.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
