Chapter 2: Inside the House
Matteo kept his eyes on the narrow opening between the door and its frame.
The shadow had vanished. The house offered no explanation—no voice, no movement he could see, not even a curtain shifting behind the dark windows. The strip of light near the floor remained.
The dispatcher’s voice came through his phone.
“Sir, are you still at the curb?”
“Yes.”
“Do not approach the house. Officers are almost there.”
Matteo tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Every instinct in him urged him toward that door. He had spent years making men move when he wanted them to move, making uncertainty someone else’s problem.
But the dispatcher had given him a clear instruction. Emma was still inside. If he rushed in, he might make the danger worse.
“I saw movement inside,” he said. “I couldn’t tell what it was.”
“Stay in your vehicle. Tell me if you see anything else.”
He stared at the house and forced himself to stay seated.
His phone lit up with Emma’s name.
“Are you still there?”
Matteo typed with one thumb.
“Yes. I’m at the curb. The police are coming. Stay in your hiding place.”
A moment passed before she answered.
“I’m scared.”
He read the words twice. He wanted to tell her there was nothing to fear, but he couldn’t know that. He wanted to tell her that no one would hurt her again, but he couldn’t promise something outside his control.
“I know,” he wrote. “You’re doing the right thing by staying hidden. Help is coming.”
The dispatcher asked him to keep Emma on the phone if he could. Matteo sent another message, asking her to stay with him and reply when it was safe. The three dots appeared, disappeared, then appeared again.
“I’m here.”
“Good. You don’t have to come out.”
He set the phone in his palm and watched the house.
A siren sounded far off, then grew louder. Blue light swept across the neighboring windows and the bare branches along the street. A patrol car stopped behind his sedan. Another pulled in at an angle, blocking the road.
Two officers stepped out. One moved toward Matteo’s driver’s side while the other kept his attention on the house.
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” the first officer called.
Matteo opened his door slowly and raised both hands.
“I called it in,” he said. “The child’s name is Emma. She says her mother was hurt. I saw a shadow move inside.”
The officer studied him, then glanced at the house.
“Stay beside your car. Don’t go near the door.”
“I understand.”
The words came out evenly. Matteo made sure his hands stayed visible. The officer’s caution didn’t surprise him. A man stepping out of an expensive car at the scene of an assault wasn’t automatically a person to trust.
The dispatcher was still connected. Matteo held up his phone so the officer could see the call.
“She has the address and the details,” he said. “She told me not to approach.”
“Good. Keep doing that.”
The officer spoke into his radio. His partner moved to the edge of the porch, careful to keep clear of the open doorway. He called out that police were there and asked anyone inside to come to the door.
No one answered.
The second officer called again.
“Police. If you can hear me, stay where you are and tell us if you need help.”
The silence stretched.
Matteo’s phone vibrated against his palm.
“I hear someone.”
His stomach tightened.
He looked toward the porch. The officer there had gone still, listening. From the curb, Matteo couldn’t make out anything inside the house.
“What do you hear?” he typed.
Emma replied slowly.
“Footsteps.”
The officer beside Matteo looked up at him.
“Is that the girl?”
Matteo nodded and showed him the screen.
“Tell her not to move,” the officer said. “Tell her to stay hidden.”
Matteo did.
“Stay where you are. The officers are outside. Don’t come out unless they tell you it’s safe.”
Emma sent back a single word.
“Okay.”
The officer at the porch lifted a hand to quiet everyone. For a few seconds, the street held its breath with him. Matteo heard the patrol car’s engine ticking and the low murmur of the dispatcher in his phone.
Then came a faint sound from inside the house.
A creak.
The porch officer shifted his stance but didn’t enter. His partner kept watch from beside the car. Matteo stood with his hands lowered now, but still visible, caught between the car and the house he had been ordered to leave alone.
His phone buzzed again.
“He’s upstairs.”
Matteo’s jaw tightened. He didn’t ask who she meant. He didn’t ask how she knew. He just showed the message to the officer.
The man’s expression changed. He spoke into his radio, quieter now. The porch officer stepped away from the doorway and called out again, announcing that the police were there.
No answer came.
Matteo looked at the narrow gap between door and frame. The pale line of light still cut across the floor inside. Whatever had moved there had not come out.
His phone vibrated.
“I can hear him walking.”
Matteo kept his hands at his sides. The old promise inside him demanded action. Isabella’s voice seemed to rise from the years he had buried: help other kids when they’re scared.
But helping Emma did not mean making her world more frightening. It did not mean charging into a dark house because he could not bear to wait.
The dispatcher spoke again.
“Sir, stay back. The officers are handling it.”
“I’m staying back.”
He held the phone where the officers could see it, watching the porch while Emma’s message glowed on the screen.
“He stopped.”
May you like
Matteo looked at the house.
The footsteps had stopped directly above the room where Emma was hiding.
