A three AM phone call about a locked room changed everything

she looked toward the stairs where the girls were sleeping. “He thinks I am visiting my sister in Dayton.”

“The girls are asleep,” I said, closing the door and turning the deadbolt. “Come into the living room.”

We sat on the edge of the sofa, the floral cushions sinking under our weight. The room was dark except for the streetlamp shining continue reading …