I Prayed for a Miracle—Now I Lock My Door at Night

rattled against the floor.

“OPEN IT!” he roared.

I backed away, my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming. My heart hammered so hard I could taste metal.

“Open it!” he yelled again. “You think you can lock me out? You think you can hide?”

He hit it again, and the dresser jumped.

I looked at my nightstand—empty. No phone. No weapon. Nothing but a lamp continue reading …