Lesson 4-The Break In

Quinn – Before

I shot up in bed, heart thumping in my chest.

Somebody was here. In my house.

Ellie.

I had to get to her. Keep her safe.

But I had to be quiet. Whoever was here couldn’t know I was awake.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed and into my slippers, I glanced at the clock.

2:15 a.m.

Nothing good ever happens after two in the morning. Isn’t that how the saying goes?

And this was definitely not good.

I spotted my phone and grabbed it, barely holding on—my hands were shaking so badly.

I stood up, then collapsed back onto the mattress.

I have to get to Ellie.

I stood again. Nothing was going to keep me from her.

Stay away from Ellie. Don’t touch her. You can have anything else. Not my baby.

The door creaked as I opened it.

No, no, no. Please don’t hear this.

I slipped through the narrow opening and made a mental note to grease the hinge in the morning—if morning came.

Footsteps echoed from downstairs.

Drawers were being rummaged through. Cabinets opened and slammed shut.

What were they looking for?

I didn’t have anything of real value—not monetarily, anyway.

Anything worth taking was sentimental. Personal.

Then I heard whispers floating up the stairs.

Almost unintelligible.

I caught fragments:

“It’s not here.”

“Evan is going to be mad.”

“It’s gotta be here somewhere.”

I froze.

I didn’t recognize the name.

Evan.

It meant nothing to me then.

I made it into Ellie’s room just as the footsteps began climbing the stairs.

I clicked the door closed and pressed my back against it.

Ellie was still sleeping, curled up with her blankie, completely unaware.

My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure it would wake her.

I took two deep breaths and whispered a silent prayer.

Please let them leave.

Please let this Evan person realize they sent their goons to the wrong house.

I crawled to the far side of Ellie’s bed, hiding in the shadows.

If the door opened, they wouldn’t see me—but I’d see them.

I dialed 911, quickly gave my name and address, not waiting for the operator to finish speaking.

I answered what I could, when I could, whispering into the phone.

There was no way I’d let them find me.

No way I’d let them hurt my baby.

“Are you sure Evan said it was here?”

The voice came from just outside the door.

There it was again. That name.

Who was this Evan?

And why did they think I had something?

The second voice was too far away to make out.

Whatever he said, it made the footsteps start to fade—until I couldn’t hear them anymore.

By the time the police arrived, the intruders were gone.

No fingerprints. No forced entry.

Nothing missing.

Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing.

After the officers left, I crawled back upstairs and climbed into bed with Ellie.

I didn’t sleep.

I couldn’t.

Not now. Maybe not ever, in this house.

I’d been thinking about moving back to my small hometown.

A place where Ellie could grow up safe.

Surrounded by family. By people I trusted.

Before the sun came up, my decision was made.

We were going home.