Day 5 began with a headache.<\/p>\n
I had slept in short pieces, waking whenever the refrigerator clicked or a car passed outside.<\/p>\n
The person from the night before never returned.<\/p>\n
That should have made me feel better.<\/p>\n
Instead I kept wondering who he had been and why he knew my name.<\/p>\n
I texted Mom at 7:14 a.m.<\/p>\n
Someone came to the house last night and tried the door.<\/p>\n
No response.<\/p>\n
At 7:31:<\/p>\n
He knew my name.<\/p>\n
At 8:06:<\/p>\n
Please call me.<\/p>\n
At 9:22, the messages showed as read.<\/p>\n
Mom still didn't call.<\/p>\n
I ate bread without peanut butter because the jar was getting low.<\/p>\n
I drank water.<\/p>\n
Then I sat at the table with my notebook open.<\/p>\n
I had begun drawing lines between days.<\/p>\n
Day 1.<\/p>\n
Day 2.<\/p>\n
Day 3.<\/p>\n
Day 4.<\/p>\n
Day 5.<\/p>\n
Twenty-five more.<\/p>\n
The number made my chest hurt.<\/p>\n
Around noon, Mom finally called.<\/p>\n
"What happened last night?"<\/p>\n
Her tone sounded irritated rather than alarmed.<\/p>\n
"Somebody tried the door."<\/p>\n
"Who?"<\/p>\n
"I don't know."<\/p>\n
"Did you look?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Then how do you know they were trying to get in?"<\/p>\n
"The knob moved."<\/p>\n
"Could have been somebody at the wrong house."<\/p>\n
"He said my name."<\/p>\n
That stopped her.<\/p>\n
"Exactly what did he say?"<\/p>\n
"'Maya, you home?'"<\/p>\n
Mom looked away.<\/p>\n
"Maybe it was someone Derek knows."<\/p>\n
"Why would someone Derek knows come here?"<\/p>\n
"I don't know."<\/p>\n
"Can you ask him?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
The answer came instantly.<\/p>\n
"Why not?"<\/p>\n
"Because then I'd have to explain everything."<\/p>\n
I gripped the phone.<\/p>\n
"So you won't ask who came to our house because Derek might find out you left me here?"<\/p>\n
"Don't twist my words."<\/p>\n
"That's what you said."<\/p>\n
"I said I will handle it."<\/p>\n
"You keep saying that."<\/p>\n
"Maya, enough."<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
The word escaped before I could stop it.<\/p>\n
Mom blinked.<\/p>\n
I had almost never told her no.<\/p>\n
"I'm hungry," I said.<\/p>\n
"There is food."<\/p>\n
"Not much."<\/p>\n
"I gave you money."<\/p>\n
"I used almost all of it."<\/p>\n
"Then make it last."<\/p>\n
"For twenty-five more days?"<\/p>\n
She closed her eyes.<\/p>\n
"I cannot deal with this right now."<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
There were palm trees behind her.<\/p>\n
Real palm trees, moving in warm wind.<\/p>\n
"Come home."<\/p>\n
"We are not canceling the trip."<\/p>\n
"What if he comes back?"<\/p>\n
"Call the police if there is an actual emergency."<\/p>\n
"How do I know what's actual?"<\/p>\n
She made an impatient sound.<\/p>\n
"Use common sense."<\/p>\n
Then Derek called something from outside the frame.<\/p>\n
Mom glanced toward him.<\/p>\n
"I have to go."<\/p>\n
"Does Derek know I'm alone yet?"<\/p>\n
She looked directly at me.<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Are you going to tell him?"<\/p>\n
"I'll tell him when I decide how."<\/p>\n
"Today?"<\/p>\n
"Maya."<\/p>\n
"Today?"<\/p>\n
The call ended.<\/p>\n
I wrote the conversation down.<\/p>\n
My handwriting pressed so hard into the page that the letters left dents on the sheet underneath.<\/p>\n
That afternoon I checked Mom's social media.<\/p>\n
She and Derek were on a boat.<\/p>\n
The sky behind them was impossibly blue.<\/p>\n
I looked at the photograph for a long time, trying to understand how two places could exist at once.<\/p>\n
In one, my mother was smiling in sunlight.<\/p>\n
In the other, I was counting crackers.<\/p>\n
Around five, someone knocked.<\/p>\n
I grabbed the knife before looking through the curtain.<\/p>\n
It was Sarah Coleman from next door.<\/p>\n
Sarah was in her thirties and had a little boy who liked drawing dinosaurs on the sidewalk with chalk. She sometimes brought our trash cans up when Mom forgot.<\/p>\n
I didn't open the door.<\/p>\n
"Maya?"<\/p>\n
I stayed quiet.<\/p>\n
She knocked again.<\/p>\n
"I saw you through the window."<\/p>\n
My heart beat faster.<\/p>\n
"It's Sarah. Are you okay?"<\/p>\n
I stepped closer but kept the door locked.<\/p>\n
"Yeah."<\/p>\n
"Is your mom home?"<\/p>\n
There it was.<\/p>\n
The question I had spent five days avoiding.<\/p>\n
"She's busy."<\/p>\n
"Can I talk to her?"<\/p>\n
"She's not here."<\/p>\n
A pause.<\/p>\n
"When will she be back?"<\/p>\n
I thought of Mom's instructions.<\/p>\n
Private business.<\/p>\n
Don't involve anyone.<\/p>\n
Don't ruin the trip.<\/p>\n
"I don't know."<\/p>\n
Sarah's voice changed.<\/p>\n
Not louder.<\/p>\n
More careful.<\/p>\n
"Maya, open the curtain so I can see you."<\/p>\n
I moved it an inch.<\/p>\n
Her face was close to the glass.<\/p>\n
She looked at me, then at the chair wedged beneath the doorknob.<\/p>\n
Her eyes dropped toward the knife in my hand.<\/p>\n
"Maya."<\/p>\n
"I'm okay."<\/p>\n
"Put the knife down."<\/p>\n
I did.<\/p>\n
"Where is your mother?"<\/p>\n
I could still have lied.<\/p>\n
I could have said grocery store.<\/p>\n
Work.<\/p>\n
Dinner.<\/p>\n
Anywhere close enough to make everything ordinary.<\/p>\n
Instead I whispered, "Hawaii."<\/p>\n
Sarah didn't speak.<\/p>\n
"With Derek," I added.<\/p>\n
"How long has she been gone?"<\/p>\n
"Five days."<\/p>\n
Her face went pale.<\/p>\n
"Who's staying with you?"<\/p>\n
I looked at the floor.<\/p>\n
"Maya."<\/p>\n
"Nobody."<\/p>\n
She took one slow breath.<\/p>\n
"Unlock the door."<\/p>\n
"Mom said not to let people in."<\/p>\n
"I'm not asking you to let me in. I'm asking you to come outside where I can see that you're all right."<\/p>\n
I hesitated.<\/p>\n
"Please."<\/p>\n
Something in her voice made me move the chair.<\/p>\n
I unlocked the deadbolt but left the chain fastened.<\/p>\n
Sarah crouched outside.<\/p>\n
"When did you last eat?"<\/p>\n
"This afternoon."<\/p>\n
"What?"<\/p>\n
"Bread."<\/p>\n
"Anything with it?"<\/p>\n
I shook my head.<\/p>\n
"When did you last have a proper meal?"<\/p>\n
"I had soup yesterday."<\/p>\n
Her expression tightened.<\/p>\n
"Does your mother know you're alone?"<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
"Does Derek?"<\/p>\n
I shook my head again.<\/p>\n
"Does any adult know?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
Sarah closed her eyes for one second.<\/p>\n
Then she stood and took out her phone.<\/p>\n
Panic rushed through me.<\/p>\n
"Don't call her."<\/p>\n
"I'm not calling your mother."<\/p>\n
"Don't call Derek."<\/p>\n
"I'm not calling Derek either."<\/p>\n
"Then who?"<\/p>\n
She looked at me through the narrow opening.<\/p>\n
"Someone who can help you."<\/p>\n
My hands started shaking.<\/p>\n
"No. Mom said\u2014"<\/p>\n
"I know what your mom said."<\/p>\n
"You don't."<\/p>\n
"Then tell me."<\/p>\n
I swallowed.<\/p>\n
"She said not to ruin the trip."<\/p>\n
Sarah's expression changed.<\/p>\n
I would remember that look for years.<\/p>\n
It wasn't anger exactly.<\/p>\n
It was the moment an adult understood something was worse than she'd thought.<\/p>\n
She asked me to stay inside while she made a call from her porch.<\/p>\n
I watched through the curtain.<\/p>\n
She spoke quietly, occasionally looking toward our house.<\/p>\n
Afterward she came back carrying a grocery bag.<\/p>\n
"I can't come inside unless you want me to," she said. "But I'm leaving this here."<\/p>\n
Inside were crackers, fruit, granola bars, bottled water, cheese, and two sandwiches.<\/p>\n
My stomach cramped just looking at them.<\/p>\n
"Am I in trouble?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Is Mom?"<\/p>\n
Sarah didn't answer immediately.<\/p>\n
"I don't know what's going to happen," she said. "But none of this should have been your job."<\/p>\n
I almost cried then.<\/p>\n
Not because she sounded kind.<\/p>\n
Because she was the first adult in five days who seemed to understand there was a job being done at all.<\/p>\n
That night I ate half a sandwich and saved the other half.<\/p>\n
I wrote Sarah's name in the notebook.<\/p>\n
I wrote what she had brought.<\/p>\n
I wrote that she had made a phone call.<\/p>\n
I didn't know who she had contacted.<\/p>\n
At 8:47 the next morning\u2014Day 6\u2014I saw Sarah standing at the edge of her driveway.<\/p>\n
She wasn't alone.<\/p>\n
A patrol car turned onto our street.<\/p>\n
Behind it came a gray sedan.<\/p>\n
Both vehicles slowed in front of our house.<\/p>\n
My heart began hammering.<\/p>\n
The patrol car stopped in the driveway.<\/p>\n
A uniformed deputy stepped out.<\/p>\n
A woman emerged from the gray sedan holding a folder and an identification badge.<\/p>\n
Sarah stayed several steps behind them.<\/p>\n
I backed away from the window.<\/p>\n
The chair was still beneath the doorknob.<\/p>\n
The knife was still beside the couch.<\/p>\n
My notebook lay open on the kitchen table.<\/p>\n
The deputy approached the porch but did not knock immediately.<\/p>\n
Instead he positioned himself where I could see him through the front window.<\/p>\n
Then he raised his badge to the glass.<\/p>\n
"Maya," he called, calm and clear. "My name is Deputy Evans. We're here because someone asked us to make sure you're safe."<\/p>\n
The woman beside him raised her identification too.<\/p>\n
"I'm Linda Vance," she said. "I work with Child Protective Services."<\/p>\n
I stood frozen in the hallway.<\/p>\n
"You are not in trouble," she added.<\/p>\n
That was the sentence that made my knees weak.<\/p>\n
Not in trouble.<\/p>\n
I looked at the chair.<\/p>\n
For five days, I had believed surviving meant obeying Mom.<\/p>\n
Keeping quiet.<\/p>\n
Making the money last.<\/p>\n
Not frightening Derek.<\/p>\n
Not embarrassing her.<\/p>\n
Not needing too much.<\/p>\n
Not calling anyone unless I could prove the emergency was big enough.<\/p>\n
Now two strangers were standing outside telling me something entirely different.<\/p>\n
I removed the chair.<\/p>\n
My fingers slipped on the deadbolt.<\/p>\n
When the door opened, Ms. Vance did not step inside.<\/p>\n
She crouched on the porch so her face was level with mine.<\/p>\n
"Are you here alone?"<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
"How long?"<\/p>\n
My throat felt dry.<\/p>\n
"Six days."<\/p>\n
Her expression barely changed, but Deputy Evans turned his head toward Sarah.<\/p>\n
"Does an adult stay here at night?" Ms. Vance asked.<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Is somebody checking on you?"<\/p>\n
"No."<\/p>\n
"Where is your mother?"<\/p>\n
"Hawaii."<\/p>\n
"How long until she comes back?"<\/p>\n
I had done the arithmetic so many times that I didn't need to think.<\/p>\n
"Twenty-four days."<\/p>\n
Deputy Evans walked several steps away and reached for his radio.<\/p>\n
Sarah covered her mouth.<\/p>\n
Ms. Vance remained in front of me.<\/p>\n
"May we come inside?"<\/p>\n
I looked past her at the patrol car.<\/p>\n
Then at Sarah.<\/p>\n
Then back at the house where I had spent six days trying to make myself small enough not to become anyone's problem.<\/p>\n
I opened the door.<\/p>\n
Ms. Vance entered first.<\/p>\n
She saw the almost empty refrigerator.<\/p>\n
The pantry.<\/p>\n
The chair.<\/p>\n
The knife.<\/p>\n
The gas-station receipt I had saved.<\/p>\n
Then she noticed the notebook.<\/p>\n
"May I read this?"<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
She turned the pages slowly.<\/p>\n
The grocery calculations.<\/p>\n
The meals.<\/p>\n
Mom's unanswered calls.<\/p>\n
The deleted comment.<\/p>\n
The stranger at the door.<\/p>\n
When she reached what I had written about Day 4, she stopped.<\/p>\n
Her finger rested beside the sentence about the emergency number.<\/p>\n
"Why didn't you call 911?"<\/p>\n
I looked at Deputy Evans.<\/p>\n
Then at her.<\/p>\n
"I didn't know if being scared counted."<\/p>\n
For the first time, Ms. Vance's professional expression slipped.<\/p>\n
She closed the notebook carefully.<\/p>\n
"When you're eleven years old and you're alone in a house at night," she said, "being scared is enough to ask for help."<\/p>\n
I looked down at my bare feet.<\/p>\n
Outside, Deputy Evans was speaking into his radio.<\/p>\n
Inside, Ms. Vance asked for my mother's phone number.<\/p>\n
I gave it to her.<\/p>\n
Then she asked for Derek's.<\/p>\n
That was when I understood the secret was over.<\/p>\n
Mom's trip had not ended.<\/p>\n
But the version of the story she had told Derek was about to.<\/p>\n
Day 5 began with a headache. I had slept in short pieces, waking whenever the refrigerator clicked or a car passed outside. The person from the night before never returned. … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":30186,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-30190","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-insightdrama"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30190","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=30190"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30190\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":30225,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/30190\/revisions\/30225"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/30186"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=30190"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=30190"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=30190"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}