She was three, with blonde curls tangled around her face and cheeks hollow in a way no child’s cheeks should ever be hollow.
Her eyes were enormous.
Not curious.
Not shy.
Terrified.
Peter moved before his body waited for permission.
He reached the bottom step just as Drew’s arm began to shake.
“Drew. God. What happened?”
Drew’s lips moved once before sound came out.
“She locked us downstairs again.”
The word again hit Peter harder than the rest of the sentence.
