Megan lifted the frying pan above her head and brought it down again. She repeated the action over and over until Daniel was silent and still, and the only thing she could hear was the sound of her own labored breathing. She stared down at the battered body in front of her and marveled at how bright the blood was against Daniel’s honey-colored blond hair.
“What did you do?” A voice screamed at her from the base of the stairs. Megan looked away from Daniel’s body and up at the source of the voice. It was Patricia, Daniel’s wife. “What did you do?!”
She stepped forward as if to run to Daniel’s aid, but stopped short when she saw the frying pan tightly gripped in Megan’s hand. It was still dripping with blood and crusted with bits of Daniel’s skin and hair.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Patricia stuttered placatingly. “I’m not angry. It was just an accident.” Her voice was gentle, but her eyes were wild with fear and panic. Megan could see her glancing toward the front door, and she knew what Patricia was going to do before she even moved. Patricia made a mad break for the door, but Megan was hot on her heels. She threw herself onto Patricia and knocked her onto the ground.
“No!” Patricia screamed a second before Megan brought the frying pan down hard on her head. Megan didn’t want to hurt her. She hadn’t wanted to hurt either of them, but Patricia especially had been kind to her and would sometimes sneak her extra food when Daniel wasn’t looking. She didn’t have any other choice, though. Megan knew that they were never going to let her leave, so this was the only choice she had. Patricia didn’t die right away, and she gasped in pain as Megan repeatedly brought the pan down onto her head.
Once she had gone completely still, Megan climbed off of her. Her shirt was covered in blood, and she desperately wanted to go clean it off, but she didn’t want to waste any time. She walked back over to where Daniel was lying on the kitchen floor and knelt down next to him. She rummaged through his pockets until she found what she was looking for—his phone.
She’d never used a phone before. Back home, her family had been too poor to afford one, and the Weavers had expressly forbidden her from ever touching either of theirs. She’d seen them using their phones, though, and she knew the basics of how they worked. She lifted Daniel’s hand off the ground and used his fingerprint to unlock the phone the way she’d seen him doing. The phone opened, and she clicked the telephone icon, grateful that everything was displayed with pictures since she didn’t know how to read English.
A keypad prompted her to input a number, and she carefully punched in nine-one-one before pressing the large green call button. She held the phone to her ear and waited, not sure what to expect. After a few seconds, the ringing stopped, and a woman’s voice came through the line.
“Nine-one-one operator, what is your emergency?” The woman’s voice was cold and unfriendly, but Megan still felt relieved to hear it, anyway.
“I need help,” she responded.
“Alright, can you tell me what’s wrong?” the woman asked. Megan understood the question but wasn’t sure how to explain her issue in English.
“I’m stuck,” she replied. “I need help.”
“You’re stuck?” the woman asked, and Megan could hear clicking on the other end of the call. “Where are you stuck?”
“In bad people’s house,” Megan explained, happy that the woman seemed interested in helping her.
“Okay, honey,” the woman replied. “Can you tell me how old you are?
“Eight,” Megan responded. Her English had gotten better in the months she’d spent with the Weavers. A fact she was grateful for now.
“Okay, sweetheart,” the woman assured, and she sounded much nicer now. “Are your mom and dad there?” Megan frowned sadly at her question. She didn’t have a dad, and she wasn’t sure where her mom was right now.
“No,” she replied tearfully.
“Okay, honey,” the woman replied. “Are there any other adults there?”
“Yes,” Megan murmured, looking down at the bodies of the Weavers. “But they are dead now.”
2
Charlie
I woke with a jolt as something thumped in my bedroom. I cracked open an eye and caught sight of Miranda just as she was buttoning her shirt back up. The events of the previous night came flooding back to me, and I was hit with a turbulent wave of emotions.
“Oh shoot,” Miranda grimaced as she caught his gaze. “Did I wake you up? Sorry, I was trying to sneak out early to go get changed before heading to the office. I can just hear Naomi’s commentary if I showed up to work in the same thing I was wearing yesterday.” She rolled her eyes and walked over to the mirror on my dresser to smooth her hair into place.
“It’s fine,” I responded as I sat up in bed. “It’ll give me some time to work out before work, anyway.” I actually hated waking up early, but I didn’t see the point of getting into it with her right now.
“Do you want to get together again tonight?” she asked as she picked her bag up off the floor. I hesitated before answering. My knee-jerk reaction was to say yes, but I couldn’t shake the uneasiness the entire affair was giving me. She
