Chapter 11 — You Know Where the Door Is

Vanessa’s composure finally broke.

She turned and hurried toward the front door, her hands shaking so badly that she mistyped the keypad code twice, the little device chirping its refusal at her.

“You can’t keep me in here, David!” she said, rounding on me.

“You can’t hold me prisoner!”

“I’m not holding you anywhere, Vanessa,” I said, and I meant it, and I was careful to mean it, because I understood even then that everything I did in that house for the next hour would eventually be looked at by other people.

“You have your phone.