Chapter 1 - The Shed Door My Son Refused to Open

I heard Ava before I saw her.

“GRANDPA!”

Her scream came from the wooden shed at the back of Grant’s yard.

I had barely stepped through the garden gate when the door shook violently.

Again.

Then again.

Ava was inside.

Marianne had just snapped the black metal latch shut from the outside and was walking away from it with the calm expression of someone finishing an ordinary chore.

My son stood several feet away.

Watching.

Doing nothing.

I rushed down the stone path.

“OPEN THE DOOR.”

Grant stepped directly in front of me.

“LET HER LEARN HER LESSON.”

For one second I stared at him.

My own son.

Thirty-nine years old.

A father.

And somewhere behind him, his three-year-old daughter was pounding both small hands against a wooden door and crying my name.

I moved toward the shed.

Grant blocked me again.

That was when I hit him.

One right hook.

Nothing more.

Grant flew backward into the stack of firewood beside the shed.

CRASH.

Logs came down around him as he hit the ground, stunned but conscious.

Then Marianne rushed toward me.

“This is a family matter!”

I turned.

She was pointing a finger into my face as if the screaming child behind that locked door were somehow none of my concern.

I slapped her once.

Her body spun sideways and dropped onto the garden bench.

She remained conscious.

I didn’t touch either of them again.

I turned back to the shed.

The black latch was still locked.

I struck the small padlock until it gave, pulled the latch free, and yanked open the door.

Ava was huddled inside on the floor.

Pale yellow dress.

Light-brown hair stuck to her wet cheeks.

Terrified.

Safe.

I reached for her.

The moment she recognized me, she launched herself into my arms and wrapped both hands around my neck.

I lifted her out.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Grandpa’s here.”

She pressed her face into my shoulder.

Then, so quietly I almost missed it, she whispered:

“Grandpa… Dad knows about it.”

I went still.

Slowly, I looked over her shoulder.

Grant was pushing logs away from himself.

Marianne sat rigidly on the bench.

And for the first time, I realized Ava wasn’t telling me that Grant knew she was inside the shed.

I had already seen that with my own eyes.

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