Chapter 2
White door stayed ajar. I heard hinge creak before I saw him.
I curled tighter in corner of gray sofa. Knees to chest. Face buried in pink pajamas. Shoulders still shaking. Air smelled like rug dust and her perfume. Woman stood out of focus beside sofa. Hand still closed around small dark object. Red nails caught light. She didn't move. Didn't check on me. She watched door.
Man entered through white doorway. Dark winter jacket, dark jeans, brown work boots. Dark gloves. Dark baseball cap pulled low. He didn't look at me. Didn't look at her. He walked toward center of room. Boots heavy on dark wood floor. Light rug muffled steps.
I lifted head. Hair stuck to wet cheek. I expected him to speak to her. Or to tell me to get up. He did neither.
He stopped under ceiling. Looked straight up.
I followed his gaze. White smoke detector on off-white ceiling. Round housing. Small green light. I had seen it every day and never really seen it. My breath caught. I thought smoke detector watches for fire. Not for people.
Woman stayed silent. She didn't warn him. Didn't tell him to stop. Her posture stayed controlled. Like this was planned.
Man raised gloved hand toward detector. Slow controlled movement. Leather creaked. His eyes stayed fixed on housing. Not scanning. Targeted. Like he knew exactly where to look.
I pressed back harder into sofa corner. Gray fabric scratched backs of legs. I understood then room had been filmed. That small dark object in woman's hand wasn't only threat. Ceiling held another. House wasn't safe. House watched.
Light dimmed slightly as his hand approached housing. Shadow fell across rug. I held breath. I wanted him to pull it down. I wanted him to leave it. Both scared me.
His fingers neared white plastic. He didn't touch yet. He tilted head, checked edge of detector. Searching for seam, for screw, for lens. Movement careful. Not hurried. Man handled thing like he had done this before.
Woman shifted weight. Just enough to make floor creak. She watched him. Not me anymore. Her silence told me they knew each other. Not strangers. Not random visitor. Hand with dark object lowered a little. Like she waited for him to finish job.
I stared at detector again. I thought about mornings on this sofa. Crying. Her hand on my jaw. All of it under that white circle. My stomach turned. I wanted to be small enough to disappear behind cushion.
Man's gloved fingertips brushed housing. Light dimmed more. His palm covered green light. I couldn't see lens now. Just back of his hand against ceiling.
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I didn't make sound. Breathing shallow. Fabric rustle loud in ears. Woman didn't stop him. I realized she wanted room blind again.
His hand stayed at detector. Room held. No click yet. No housing came down.
