We Have to Run. Now.

I dialed emergency services with shaking fingers.

The signal swung wildly between a weak connection and nothing at all, and my hands trembled so badly I nearly dropped the phone.

Frustration slammed into fear as Penelope tugged urgently at my sleeve.

“Mommy, Daddy turned off the internet last night, because the TV stopped working completely and he was being really quiet.”

A horrifying pattern snapped into focus in my mind. Disabled communication, remotely locked doors, my daughter’s testimony—it all formed a sequence far too deliberate to write off as innocent.

“Upstairs,” I whispered, forcing steadiness into a voice strained by rising panic. “We’re going upstairs quietly, without making any noise at all, just like we’re playing a game.”