And that’s when it happened.
Before my fingers touched the knob, Lily let out a high-pitched cry and lunged at me with a force that didn’t seem like hers. He pushed me back so sharply that my keys fell to the floor.
“No!” he shrieked. Don’t open it!
His voice bounced through the hall, and at that very moment I heard a metallic click from the other side of the door.
It did not come from the metal plate.
It came lower.
I froze.
Lily clung to my leg, shaking from head to toe. I could barely breathe. I looked down slowly at the bottom of the door, and then I saw it: an almost invisible thread, stretched at the lock and attached to something on the other side of the frame.
I felt a hole open in my stomach.
It wasn’t normal.
It was not improvised.
It was a trap.
I knelt down carefully, trying not to touch anything. The air suddenly tasted strange to me. Heavier. More chemical. As if underneath the smell of coffee and lemon cleaner there was something else… something sour, something that shouldn’t be there.
Gas.
I backed away suddenly.
Not much. Just one step. But it was enough for my brain to finally put the pieces together with terrible speed.
Derek had gone “on a trip”.
Lily had heard him say that it was going to happen today.
“Make sure it looks like an accident.”
The front door was ready.
And there was gas in the house.
I looked into the kitchen. The stove was off. But that meant nothing. It could come from somewhere else. From an open line. From the basement. From the heater. From anywhere I couldn’t see.
“My love, don’t touch anything,” I whispered, taking Lily by the shoulders. No switches. No lamps. Not your tablet. Nothing, yes?
She nodded with pursed lips.
My hand was already going towards the phone inside the bag when I stopped.
If there was enough gas, even a call could be a risk in there. I didn’t know if it was paranoia or instinct, but I wasn’t going to gamble my daughter’s life on appearing rational.
We needed to get out.
But not through the front door.
My eyes swept over the house. The dining room windows looked out onto the side garden. The sliding door from the living room went out to the terrace. The back door led to the small utility yard next to the garage.
Garage.
The garage was connected to the house.
And Derek’s car was gone.
Too many variables. Too much risk.
I crouched down until I was at Lily’s level.
“We’re going out the dining room window, okay?” Without making a sound. Like when we play at being spies.
