Marcy Grayson adjusted her earrings, admiring her reflection.
Tonight was her first date night with her husband, Chris, since their daughter Lucy was born.
They left the house feeling confident. Adriana, their trusted babysitter, was in charge.
She’s in good hands, Marcy thought, sipping her wine at the restaurant. Everything is fine.
Back at the house, the mood had shifted. Adriana was helping Lucy brush her teeth when the doorbell rang.
“Stay here, Lucy,” Adriana said softly. “I’ll be right back.”
Lucy waited. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Adriana never returned.
The house was deathly silent, except for the dripping of the bathroom faucet.
Suddenly, a heavy footstep creaked on the stairs.
Lucy knew it wasn’t Adriana. The footsteps were too heavy. Too slow.
I have to hide, the 3-year-old whispered to herself.
She crawled under the bed and reached for the spare cell phone her parents kept in the nightstand.