Page 97 of Please Open Me
Her voice rang through the house, and I could tell she was scared out of her mind. I wanted to comfort Mason, to pull her into my chest and make all ofthisgo away. But, I couldn’t. Right now, I was the problem, and, for the first time, I had absolutely no idea how to fix any of this.
Watching Mason leave with all three kids was the hardest thing I’d ever done—and that’s saying something, considering my track record. Cameron, Sophia, and I tried everything short of throwing ourselves in front of the door. We pleaded. Explained. Begged. But Mason was already gone in her head, and nothing we said could pull her back.
She moved like the floor was on fire—buckling Rosie into her car seat, ushering Jasper and Juniper into the van—never looking at us once. When Cameron reached for one of the backpacks, she yanked it away like he was some stranger in a parking lot.
No goodbye. No last look.
Just the slam of the door and the low growl of the engine as she pulled away, taking my family with her.
She wasn’t leaving because she didn’t love me. She was leaving because shedid, and she didn’t trust me with that love anymore.
And that broke me in a way I didn’t know was possible.
Mattie walked out right after Mason, which was the smartest thing she’s ever done. Because if she’d lingered, I might’ve given her a real reason to run.
Cameron and Sophia snapped into action mode, checking rooms, noting what Mason had taken, what she hadn’t, like maybe the missing inventory could tell them whether or not she planned to come back.
I stayed put. The weight of it all had already settled into my bones like concrete. My thumb just kept swiping across my phone, scrolling through faces I’d just lost: Mason’s crooked smile, Rosie’s gummy grin, the twins tangled in blankets.
The steps creaked from both directions, Cameron coming up, Sophia coming down.
“Well?” Cam asked before Sophia even hit the last step.
“A bunch of clothes and toys,” she said, blinking too fast. “Drawers open. The room’s a mess.”
Cameron nodded, and that’s when I noticed the red around his eyes.
“She didn’t take a damn thing for herself. Not her Kindle. Not clothes. Nothing.” His chest shook as he forced in a breath. “You think that means she’ll come back? Or she’s in a hotel nearby?”
The silence that followed was the kind you could choke on.
Sophia glanced at me, lips parting like she was about to say something, but swallowed it. Cameron stared at the floor, fists clenched, knuckles white.
I wanted to tell him yes. That she was close. That this wasn’t permanent. That couples got past this exact bump all the time, when one finds out the other has killed people. But the lie lodged in my throat.
“She’s a mom first,” I said instead. “She wasn’t worried about herself.”
I thought about tracking her down the old-fashioned way: it was quiet and efficient, and I could even kidnap her after. But that wouldn’t touch the other problem in the room.
I looked straight at Sophia. “Do you kill people?” I asked.
Her lashes lowered, her breath slow and careful.
“Cam,” she said finally, “Give us a minute?”
“No,” he shot back without hesitation. “I think I want to hear this.”
Sophia’s smile lingered just long enough to set off alarms in my head. “Fine. I guess you deserve to know too. I have.”
Normally, those two words would’ve caused my brain to fizzle out. Right now, they just felt like one more piece in an already insane puzzle.
“How many?” I asked, leaning forward.
Cameron dropped onto the couch beside me, our shoulders brushing.
Sophia tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “How many haveyoukilled?”
I looked at Cameron—maybe for permission, maybe to make sure I was still in the same reality.
