Chapter 2 - The Whispered Warning
"Mommy!"
Emma's voice didn't just sound urgent—it sounded terrified.
Before I could turn off the running water, she slammed her small body against my waist, nearly knocking me off balance. Her breath came in hot, ragged gasps, and her little fingers dug so hard into my apron that fabric tore slightly under her grip.
"Hey, sweetheart, what's wrong?" I asked, kneeling down to look into her eyes. "Did you have a bad dream?"
"We have to run. Now," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the refrigerator. Her wide blue eyes darted frantically toward the hallway leading to the front foyer. "He's coming back, Mommy. He always comes back when the car leaves."
"Who's coming back, baby? Daddy?" I tried to smile, smoothing back a stray lock of her blonde hair. "Daddy just left for the airport. He has a flight to Chicago."
"That's not Daddy," Emma whimpered, a tear finally spilling over her lashes and tracking down her cheek. "That's the other one. The one who wears Daddy's face."
The blood rushed out of my face, leaving a cold, hollow void in my chest.
The one who wears Daddy's face.
Before I could process the sheer madness of her words, the front doorbell rang.
Ding-dong.
It wasn't a casual chime. It was a slow, deliberate, heavy press.
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And then came the sound that froze the marrow in my bones: three heavy knocks, followed by a light, rhythmic scratching against the wooden door panel.
The exact sequence Daniel had used ever since we were college sweethearts—our secret code.
