The Knock Came Before I Could Dial 911

the man called again. “It’s about the girl.”

Not Clara.

The girl.

I moved her into the little bedroom and sat her on the rug beside the bed. Her wet hair stuck to her cheeks. She clutched the towel around herself with both fists.

“Stay here,” I mouthed.

She shook her head so hard that water flew from her hair.

“Don’t let him take me.”

“No one is taking you.continue reading …