Chapter 53
the panel gave way with a sickening crack, revealing a dark, narrow crawlspace smelling of damp earth and old wood. i grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen drawer and shined it into the void. the little boy was huddled in the corner, pale and shivering, but his chest was rising and falling. i reached in, my arms scraping against the rough splinters, and carefully pulled him out into the hallway light. he couldn't have been older than six, clutching one of mia's stuffed animals. as i held him against my chest, calculating how fast i could pack a bag and get both kids into the car, his eyes fluttered open. he looked past my shoulder, his small face contorting in sheer terror. before i could even turn around, the heavy thud of the front door locking echoed through the house, followed by the slow, deliberate sound of footsteps coming up the stairs
