The phone showed twelve percent battery.

Her hand wrapped around my finger.

The first siren rose from the east, faint and growing.

Julian slapped the door with his palm.

“Brenda, if you care about this child at all, you’ll open this door before the police show up.”

“You already had your chance,” I said.

The siren got louder, and a second one joined it.

Red light swept across the hallway beneath the laundry door.