Chapter 14 - The House Without Them
Claire returned home under police escort.
Alex entered first.
The kitchen smelled faintly of cleaning chemicals.
Someone had tried to wipe the floor before the search warrant locked the property.
The shattered phone had been collected.
The wooden stick was gone as evidence.
Breakfast ingredients remained sealed in bags on the counter.
Claire stood near the refrigerator.
Her breathing became shallow.
Alex waited.
“Do you want to leave?”
“No.”
She needed to see the room without Victor in it.
She walked toward the place where she had crawled.
The hardwood held a small dent from the stick.
Claire touched it with her fingertips.
“This is where he missed.”
Alex did not correct her.
Victor had not missed accidentally.
He struck close enough to terrify her.
The precision was part of the abuse.
Claire turned toward the breakfast table.
Helena’s chair remained pulled back.
Raúl’s coffee ring marked the wood.
Nora’s phone charger lay near the wall.
Ordinary objects made the memory worse.
The room had not looked like a crime scene while the crime was happening.
It looked like a family breakfast.
Alex changed the locks.
A security company replaced the panel.
Claire removed the framed photograph that had hung above her shattered phone.
Not because she blamed Alex.
Because Victor had used her brother’s distance as proof that she was alone.
She placed the photograph beside the front door instead.
A reminder that the door opened.
Upstairs, Claire entered the nursery.
The blue folder was gone as evidence.
The empty floorboard remained.
She sat in the rocking chair.
Alex stood in the doorway.
“I’m going to stay in a hotel nearby.”
“No.”
He paused.
“I don’t want you to feel watched.”
“You’re not watching me.”
“What do you need?”
Claire looked around the quiet room.
“One night where someone safe is downstairs.”
Alex nodded.
He slept on the living-room couch.
Claire woke repeatedly.
Each time, she listened.
No footsteps climbing the stairs.
No voice demanding breakfast.
Only the soft sound of Alex turning a page.
May you like
Safety felt unfamiliar.
But it was beginning to have a sound.
