Chapter 1: Four Percent
The burner phone was at four percent.
That was the first thing I noticed.
Not the pain in my ribs. Not the rain hammering against the bedroom windows. Not even Lily trembling against my chest.
Four percent.
Four percent was all I had left to get us out.
I sat on the floor beside the bed with one arm wrapped tightly around my side and the other around my five-year-old daughter. The carpet beneath me was cold and damp from the water Lily and I had tracked in earlier, but I barely felt it.
Every breath burned.
Every movement sent another sharp wave of pain through my ribs.
Gregory was downstairs.
Or at least I thought he was.
And that uncertainty terrified me more than anything.
Lily looked up at me with red, swollen eyes. Her small fingers were gripping the sleeve of my sweater so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
“Mommy…”
I pressed one finger to my lips.
“Shh.””
Her mouth closed immediately.
Too immediately.
That was what hurt the most.
Not my bruises.
Not the fear.
The fact that my little girl had learned how to disappear.
Children were supposed to run through houses laughing. They were supposed to slam doors, leave toys everywhere, ask impossible questions at bedtime.
They were not supposed to know that silence could keep them safe.
But Lily did.
And that realization nearly broke me.
I reached under the bed and pulled out the small black travel bag I had hidden there months ago.
My emergency bag.
I had packed it slowly, almost without admitting what I was doing.
A shirt folded between old blankets.
A copy of Lily’s birth certificate tucked inside a notebook.
Cash hidden between magazines Gregory never touched.
Medicine placed inside an old makeup pouch.
A spare charger.
A small stuffed rabbit.
Everything I thought we might need if the day came when I finally stopped pretending.
I had told myself I was being cautious.
I had told myself every woman with a difficult marriage kept a backup plan.
I had told myself Gregory would never actually make me leave.
Until tonight.
Tonight was different.
Tonight, when his hand hit the wall beside my head and Lily started crying from the hallway, I finally understood something.
I was not waiting for him to change.
I was waiting for him to hurt us badly enough that I would have no choice.
My hands shook as I grabbed the last few items from the closet and shoved them into the bag.
Lily watched every movement.
“What are we doing?””
I looked at her.
“Put your coat on.””
Her expression changed instantly.
The confusion disappeared.
The fear arrived.
“Are we leaving?””
I stopped for half a second.
Then I nodded.
“Yes.””
She stared toward the bedroom door.
“What if Daddy wakes up?””
The question was barely a whisper.
I forced myself to keep my voice steady.
“If he wakes up, we keep moving.””
“But he’ll be mad.””
I swallowed.
“He might be.””
Lily hugged her rabbit closer.
“Because of me?””
The words hit harder than anything Gregory had ever done.
I moved closer and held her face gently between my hands.
“No.””
My voice cracked.
“Never because of you.””
She searched my face like she was trying to decide whether to believe me.
Then she nodded.
I helped her put on her winter coat.
Her hands trembled as she pushed her arms through the sleeves.
When she finished, she grabbed her stuffed rabbit from the pillow.
Gregory hated that rabbit.
He always said she was too old to carry a toy around.
“Five-year-olds don’t need baby things,” he would say.
But Lily slept with that rabbit every night.
So tonight, I was not leaving it behind.
I reached for the car keys.
The metal touched my fingers.
Then they jingled.
A tiny sound.
A harmless sound.
Except inside that house, every sound felt like a warning.
Lily froze.
I froze.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
We listened.
Nothing.
No footsteps.
No angry voice.
No heavy breathing from the hallway.
Only the rain.
Only the storm.
Only the sound of my own heartbeat.
Slowly, I stood.
Pain ripped through my side so suddenly my knees almost gave out.
Lily grabbed my arm.
“Mommy?””
I leaned against the bed frame.
“I’m okay.””
The lie came automatically.
Mothers become experts at lying when they are trying to protect their children.
Lily looked at me.
She knew.
Children always know more than adults think.
“You’re hurt.””
I looked away.
“It’s nothing.””
She lowered her voice.
“Did Daddy do it?””
The room seemed to get smaller.
For a moment, I could hear everything.
The rain.
The old pipes in the walls.
The faint ticking clock on the dresser.
The little girl standing in front of me, asking a question no child should ever have to ask.
I knelt down despite the pain.
“Listen to me, Lily.””
She looked into my eyes.
“None of this is your fault.””
“But—”
“Nothing.””
I held her hands.
“You did nothing wrong.””
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“I tried to be quiet.””
My heart shattered.
“Oh, Lily…”
“I tried really hard.””
I pulled her into my arms.
“You should never have to be quiet because you’re scared.””
For a moment, we stayed there.
Mother and daughter.
Hiding in the dark.
Waiting for the courage to move.
Then the burner phone vibrated.
Both of us jumped.
I grabbed it quickly.
The screen lit up.
Unknown number.
My stomach tightened.
Nobody had this number.
Nobody except one person.
My finger hovered over the screen.
Lily whispered, “Who is it?””
I didn’t answer.
The phone buzzed again.
A message appeared.
I opened it.
Three words.
Three words that made the blood drain from my face.
*I know you’re leaving.*
I stared at the screen.
My hands went cold.
That was impossible.
Gregory did not know about the phone.
He did not know about the bag.
He did not know about the plan.
At least, I thought he didn’t.
Then another message appeared.
This time, with a picture attached.
I clicked it.
And my entire body went numb.
It was a photograph of the travel bag.
The exact bag sitting beside me.
Taken only minutes ago.
Someone had been inside our room.
Someone had been watching us.
Lily saw my face change.
“Mommy?””
I stood too quickly and nearly fell.
“Put your shoes on.””
“But—”
“Now, Lily.””
My voice was different.
She heard it.
The fear in my voice was stronger than any command.
She grabbed her boots.
I shoved the phone into my pocket and grabbed the bag.
The bedroom door was still closed.
The hallway outside was still dark.
But suddenly, the house no longer felt empty.
It felt like it was holding its breath.
I reached for the doorknob.
Then I heard it.
A sound from downstairs.
A chair scraping across the floor.
My hand froze.
Because Gregory was supposed to be asleep.
And then his voice floated up from the darkness.
“Running away already, Emily?””
Lily grabbed my hand.
The phone slipped slightly in my pocket.
May you like
And from downstairs, Gregory laughed.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to finally try.””
