Chapter 10 - The Voice Through the Gap
We stayed on the floor together. The hallway felt smaller with all three of us kneeling in front of that white door.
Dad had his flashlight off now, laid flat on the hardwood beside his knee. Mom sat closest to the crack at the bottom where the plate had gone through, her shoulder against the doorframe. I was between them, my back against the opposite wall, close enough that my socks touched the edge of Mom's foot. No one had said whose idea it was to get down this low. We just did it.
For a long time there was only breathing. Mine, Mom's, Dad's, and then a fourth, lighter, on the other side.
Mom tapped once, soft, with her fingernail. "Emma, honey. We're all here. It's safe to talk."
A pause stretched. Then a voice came through, thin and hoarse, like she hadn't used it in days. It shook on every word.
"I didn't know where else to go," she said.
Dad closed his eyes for a second. He didn't interrupt. Mom kept her hand flat on the door, not pushing, just there.
Emma took a breath that hitched. "It wasn't always bad. At first he just yelled. About dishes, about my phone, about my mom working late. Then he started... he started coming into my room at night when she wasn't home. He'd say it was to check if I was doing homework. He'd stand in the doorway. Then he started grabbing my arm if I talked back. Last week he shoved me into the dresser. My mom saw the bruise on my shoulder and I told her. She said I was being dramatic. She said he loves us and I needed to stop making things up for attention."
The hallway air felt suddenly cold. Mom made a small sound in her throat and pressed her forehead for a second against the white paint.
"I told her he scared me when he drinks," Emma went on, her voice cracking higher. "She said, 'Don't ruin this for us, Emma.' She chose him. So I knew I couldn't stay."
I could hear the shake getting worse, the way she had to stop between sentences to swallow.
"How did you get here?" Dad asked, finally. His voice was low and careful. He leaned a little closer to the gap, not to look, just to hear.
"The station near my school," Emma said. "I saved money from babysitting. Sixty dollars. I bought a Greyhound ticket. Twelve hours. I sat next to a lady with a baby the whole way and I didn't sleep because I was afraid I'd miss my stop. I texted Aunt Sarah when I got to town because she's the only one who ever believed me before. When I was little she said if I ever needed help I could call her. So I begged her. I said please just let me hide for a couple days. I didn't want to get anyone in trouble. I just didn't want to go back."
Mom's hand slid down to the floor. "You did right calling me," she whispered. "You did right, sweetheart."
I hadn't spoken yet. My throat was tight. I looked at Dad, then at the dark line under the door where Emma's shadow moved, just a faint shift of light.
"Emma?" I said. My voice sounded too loud in the quiet. I softened it. "What do you want now? Like, if you could choose. What do you want to happen?"
Another long pause. I heard fabric rustling on the other side, like she had sat down too, her back against the door like mine.
"I don't want to go back," she said, and this time she wasn't whispering. The words were clear, even as they shook. "I don't want them to make me go back. I just want to stay until I can talk to a counselor at school. The counselor at Jefferson, Ms. Alvarez, she knows about stuff like this. I looked her up. She can help me do it the right way. I just didn't want to be alone while I figured it out. I don't want to get Aunt Sarah in trouble."
Dad stared at the gap. His jaw wasn't tight anymore. He looked tired, and something else, something like relief that she had said it out loud.
May you like
Mom nodded at the door, even though Emma couldn't see her. "No one is sending you back tonight," she said. "No one."
Dad reached over and put his hand lightly on Mom's shoulder. He didn't say anything about deadlines or rules or what came next. He just sat there with us, listening to the four of us breathe in that narrow hallway, the door still locked between us, but for the first time it didn't feel like a wall. It felt like a place where someone was finally being heard.
