Chapter 1 - THE CAGE IN THE BACKYARD
The gate was already open when I reached the backyard.
That was the first thing I noticed.
The second was my daughter’s voice.
Not screaming.
Worse.
Crying like she had already learned screaming didn’t help.
“Maya?”
I ran across the neglected patio, past the dead planters, past the rusted pool skimmer, past the murky green water that I had meant to clean for three weekends and never did.
Then I saw her.
My ten-year-old daughter was crouched inside a large metal dog cage near the back fence, gripping the bars with both hands. Her red headband had slipped sideways. Her striped shirt was damp from the cold air. Her face was pale, terrified, but thankfully unhurt.
“Maya?! Oh my God!”
I dropped beside the cage so hard my knees hit the patio stone.
There was a padlock on the door.
A real padlock.
For half a second, my mind refused to understand what my eyes were seeing.
Then I grabbed the heavy garden cutters from the ground and forced them around the lock.
“Maya, look at me.”
She recoiled at the metal snap of the cutters, then kept glancing over my shoulder toward the pool.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“No. No, baby. You did nothing wrong.”
The lock snapped.
I ripped the cage door open, and Maya rushed into my arms.
I held her so tightly I felt her shaky breathing against my chest.
“I’ve got you. We’re leaving.”
I lifted her and turned toward the side gate.
That was when she panicked.
Her fingers dug into my denim shirt.
“Daddy… please don’t look.”
I froze.
Not at the cage.
At the pool.
Slowly, I turned.
The green water rippled in the wind.
Several sealed black plastic bags were partly visible beneath the surface, pressed against the shallow end like something had been thrown in quickly and not sunk deeply enough.
One of them shifted.
A small ripple spread across the filthy water.
My confusion became alarm so fast it felt physical.
Across the fence, Mrs. Harris stood in her gray coat, one trembling hand pointing toward the house.
“Someone’s still in there.”
An upstairs curtain moved.
Then the back door creaked open a few inches.
I backed away from the pool with Maya held tight against me.
A siren grew louder in the distance.
May you like
I looked from the submerged bags to the dark gap of the open door.
And my daughter hid her face in my shoulder as if she already knew the worst thing in our backyard was not the cage.
