Chapter 1 - The Doorway Pushed Me Forward
The light in the storage room buzzed over my head and made everything look too white. The shelves were close on both sides with plastic bins stacked crooked and the red crate on the bottom where Grandma kept old Christmas lights. The air smelled like dust and laundry soap. Melanie's hand wasn't exactly on me, but it was right behind my back, close enough that I could feel the heat of it, pushing me forward without touching.
I didn't want to go through the doorway. The hallway past it was darker and warmer, and I knew if I stepped out there I couldn't come back in. My socks slid a little on the concrete. That was the part that didn't make sense. I'd only come down to get the extra blanket because my room was cold, and Grandma had come with me because the basement steps scared me. Now Melanie was standing in the doorway like we'd done something wrong, and her face was harder than I'd ever seen it.
My name is Claire. I was eight that night.
The clock upstairs had chimed a little while ago, so I knew it was late. Dad's duffel bag wasn't by the front door when I'd checked after dinner, which meant he was still on his trip. Melanie stood with one shoulder against the doorframe, her dark hair pulled back tight, her beige blouse pulled smooth. She looked at me and then past me at Grandma. Her hand lifted to the edge of the door.
I stopped right at the line where the white light met the yellow hall light. I could see the scuff on my shoe. I could hear myself breathing too fast. I looked up at her and I said it before I could think about whether it would help.
"Please, I'm sorry."
Melanie didn't blink. "Too late. You want to act like a problem? Then get out of my sight."
Behind me, Grandma moved fast for her. Her apron brushed the plastic bins. I felt her hand come light on my shoulder, not pulling, just there. She stepped up beside me so her body was between me and the shelves, and she looked straight at Melanie.
"Stop it. She's a child."
For a second nobody moved. The fluorescent light hummed. Somewhere upstairs the heater clicked on. Melanie's eyes went from me to Grandma, and her mouth got thin. She shifted her weight so she filled more of the doorway, and her fingers curled around the edge of the door.
"You want to protect her? Fine. Stay with her."
Grandma's fingers tightened on my sweater. I leaned back into her legs without meaning to. I wanted to tell Melanie I hadn't meant to be loud, I hadn't meant to spill the laundry basket, I hadn't meant any of it, but my throat was closed up. Grandma's voice went low when she spoke again.
"No, please. Melanie, don't do this."
May you like
Melanie stared at her. "Maybe now you'll both learn your place."
She started to pull the door in. I watched her knuckles go white on the edge, and the warm air from the hallway brushed my face as the gap got smaller.
