Part 2: The knock came again.
The knock came again.
Harder this time.
The door frame trembled under the impact.
“Robert,” Sergio’s voice called out, calm enough to sound like he was standing in a meeting instead of outside a child’s nightmare. “Let’s not make this difficult.”
Ruby pressed herself so tightly against my back I could feel her shaking through my shirt.
My sister was still on the phone.
“Don’t open it,” Paula repeated, her voice breaking. “Please, Robert, don’t open it.”
I didn’t move.
But my eyes stayed locked on the door.
Because now I saw it.
The small, almost invisible gap under the frame.
A shadow shifting there.
Not just standing.
Waiting.
Upstairs, the floor creaked again.
Ruby made a tiny sound—like she was trying not to exist.
“Go upstairs,” I whispered to her.
She shook her head violently.
“I’m not allowed,” she whispered back.
That sentence hit me harder than the knocking.
Not allowed.
A five-year-old saying that about moving in her own home.
The knock turned into something heavier.
Not impatient anymore.
Controlled.
Measured.
Like he was testing how long it would take before we broke.
Then Sergio spoke again, softer.
“I don’t want to scare her, Robert.”
A pause.
Then—
“But I will come in if I have to.”
My grip tightened.
I looked down at Ruby.
Her eyes weren’t on the door anymore.
They were on me.
Waiting for permission to exist.
That’s when I realized what had changed in her face.
It wasn’t just fear.
It was expectation.
Like she had been here before.
Like doors opening meant consequences she already knew how to survive.
“Ruby,” I said quietly, “did he ever come inside before?”
Her lips trembled.
She didn’t answer.
That was the answer.
The knock came again—but this time, the lock clicked slightly.
My stomach dropped.
He had a key.
Or had tried.
Or knew exactly how close he was to getting in.
Paula’s voice suddenly screamed through the phone.
“Robert, listen to me—he’s not supposed to know I took her—”
A crash cut her off.
Then silence.
The line stayed open, but there was nothing on the other end.
Just breathing.
Not mine.
Not Ruby’s.
Someone else’s.
Downstairs.
Inside the house.
My blood turned cold.
He wasn’t just outside anymore.
I slowly backed up, pulling Ruby with me toward the stairs.
The knock stopped.
Complete silence followed.
Too complete.
And then—
From the living room, a soft sound.
A chair scraping.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Ruby grabbed my sleeve so hard her fingers went white.
“He’s inside,” she whispered.
My mind snapped into focus.
No more waiting.
No more listening.
I lifted Ruby into my arms.
She didn’t resist this time.
She clung.
I moved toward the stairs just as footsteps began again—this time behind the couch, closer than before.
Sergio’s voice came, no longer calm.
“Robert… don’t make her run.”
I froze for half a second.
Then I saw it.
On the floor near the hallway table.
A small black device.
Blinking.
A camera.
Not hidden anymore.
Just… watching.
Ruby saw it too.
And buried her face into my shoulder.
That’s when I understood the worst part.
He wasn’t coming to take her.
He was coming to confirm she was still there.
The footsteps shifted again.
Closer.
I turned toward the stairs—
—and the front door rattled behind us.
Not from knocking.
From being unlocked.
Sergio spoke one last time, right inside the house now.
“I told you,” he said softly. “She never leaves.”
And Ruby whispered something against my shoulder that made my entire body go still:
“He says that when he’s not supposed to be here.”