Chapter 9
The air on the other side of the door went quiet again. I could hear my own breathing and Teresa's hand on my back, and then Melanie's voice, closer now, like she'd stepped right up to the wood.
I didn't know where my dad was until I heard his shoes on the hallway floor. He wasn't pounding anymore. He was standing there.
"Melanie, unlock it," he said. His voice was low and tired, the way it got when he didn't want a fight at the dinner table.
Melanie didn't answer right away. I heard the soft clink of metal, like she had the key in her hand and was turning it over.
"You see what you did?" Melanie said. She wasn't talking to him, not really. She was talking through the door at Teresa. "I told you to get out of my sight and you couldn't even do that right. You had to make it worse."
Teresa didn't move away from me. Her arm stayed around my shoulders. She leaned a little toward the door.
"Mrs. Whitaker, please," Teresa said. Her voice was steady but I could feel her chest rise fast. "They're cold. Claire's been crying. Let us out and we can talk upstairs."
Melanie laughed once, short. "You don't get to tell me what we do in my house. I told you what would happen if you kept pushing."
I felt Teresa swallow. My face was still against her uniform and it smelled like laundry soap.
My dad cut in. "That's enough. Teresa's not the problem here. Open the door now, Melanie. We'll sort the rest later."
There was a pause. I pictured Melanie holding the key, her cream blouse, her low bun, the way she held her chin when she was mad.
"No," she said. "You want to act like this is my fault? They both want to act like problems. Then maybe now you'll both learn your place."
The word place hit hard. I remembered her saying that before she pulled the door shut, and hearing it again made my stomach drop.
My dad's voice changed. It got louder, not shouting, but sharp. "Don't do that. Do not put Teresa and my daughter in a basement and call it a lesson. You want to fire someone? Fire me. Unlock the door."
Melanie's shoes shifted on the other side. "You think you can just order me around? This is my house too. I manage this house while you're gone with your duffel bag. I tell Teresa what to do. If she wants to protect Claire over her job, she can stay in there and think about whether she still has one."
I felt Teresa go stiff. Her hand on my head stopped for half a second, then started again, slower.
She whispered, just for me, "It's okay. It's okay, mija."
But it wasn't quiet enough because Melanie heard.
"You hear that?" Melanie said. "You keep whispering to her, Teresa. Go ahead. You keep choosing her. See where that gets you. I can have someone else here by the weekend."
My dad exhaled hard through his nose. I heard him step closer to the door. His hand hit the wood once, flat.
"Melanie, listen to yourself," he said. "You're threatening to fire Teresa for standing between you and an eight-year-old. That's what you're doing. You locked my kid in a storage room. Teresa, I'm sorry. This is not on you."
Teresa didn't answer him through the door. She just held me tighter.
Melanie's voice came back, tight and even. "I am not threatening. I am telling you the rules. She works for us. She doesn't get to decide Claire's discipline. If she can't follow that, she doesn't work here. And Claire doesn't get to run the house with tears. They both stay there until they understand."
I heard the key then. A small metallic scrape, then a jingle as she closed her fingers around it. She wasn't putting it in the lock. She was holding it.
"I have the key," Melanie said. "And the door stays shut until I say it opens. You want to be on their side, Deaken? Fine. You can stand out there and wait with them."
My dad didn't answer right away. The hallway was silent except for the faint buzz of the fluorescent light over us. That light had been humming since she shut us in and it made my eyes hurt.
Then his voice came through, closer to the crack at the bottom of the door, low enough that I had to listen hard.
May you like
"Unlock it now, Melanie," he said. "I'm not asking. If you don't, I'm done negotiating. You want to make this about who controls the house, you'll find out real fast you don't control this door."
No one moved. I could feel Teresa's heartbeat against my cheek, quick and strong. Melanie didn't put the key in. She just held it, and the door stayed locked between us.
