Chapter 2: The Crawl Across the Silent Living Room
I kept my hand against Lily’s shoulder and watched for the small movements that proved she was still with me. Her skin felt cool through the fabric of her dress. When I touched her cheek, she flinched, then opened her eyes again. They followed me without focus for a second, then fixed on my face.
Tommy lay beside her, wrapped in a fabric onesie, his small body turned toward the hallway. I placed two fingers against him and felt the faint rise and fall beneath the cloth. His eyes stayed closed. He did not cry or reach for me. I checked Lily again, then Tommy, using my hands because I had no other measure of what had happened to them.
The living room showed me the path they had taken. A narrow trail disturbed the dust near the edge of the rug, beginning in the direction of the hallway and ending where Lily had fallen. One of her knees was marked with gray from the floor. Tommy’s sleeve had collected a dark smear along the fabric. Nothing explained why they had crawled instead of walked, or why no one had come when they reached the open room.
I looked past them.
The simple wooden door at the end of the hallway remained closed. Its surface held the same dull color as the surrounding shadows. I could not see the lock from where I knelt, but I knew it was there. The house gave me no sound from behind it. No movement. No voice. Even the rooms around us seemed to be holding their breath.
My suitcase stood near the entrance where I had left it. One wheel still angled toward the door. I had crossed half the room before seeing the children, and now the distance between the suitcase and the hallway felt longer than it had a moment earlier. My phone was inside the case. So were the clothes and small necessities I had carried home from the trip. None of them mattered as much as the two children on the floor, but the phone mattered enough to become part of the problem.
Lily tried to shift. Her fingers curled against the rug, searching for something solid. I slid one arm beneath her shoulders and another under her knees. She weighed almost nothing when I lifted her. Her head rested against my chest, and her hair brushed my jaw. I kept my eyes on the hallway while I carried her to the couch.
Then I went back for Tommy.
I gathered him carefully, supporting his head and keeping his body close to mine. He made a slight movement against my shirt but remained listless. I placed him beside Lily and pulled a cushion near them so neither could roll toward the edge. Their faces looked pale in the dim room. I touched Lily’s hand, then Tommy’s forehead, repeating the check because repetition was the only action I could trust.
The locked door stayed in my view between the couch and the entrance. I could have gone to it first. I could have tested the handle, searched for the lock, and forced myself to learn what my wife had kept from me. Instead I looked at Lily’s dry lips and Tommy’s still face.
Water. A phone. Something clean and warm.
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The kitchen lay beyond the living area, out of sight. My suitcase and phone were near the entrance. The hallway and its closed door stood between me and both choices, as if the house had arranged them deliberately.
I rested one hand on the back of the couch and looked from the children to the door. Then I stepped toward the entrance, leaving the locked room unopened but not out of my thoughts.
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