“This will be easier for everybody,” he said softly.
That almost broke me.
But I didn’t move.
Daniel picked something up from the table and walked away. A moment later, the door to the garage shut.
[I opened my eyes.]
Noah’s were already open.
I raised one finger to my lips.
“Phones,” he whispered.
Mine was gone. So was his.
Then I noticed my blue dinner plate still sitting on the table with several bites untouched.
I didn’t know what Daniel had put in our food, or whether the plate could prove anything. I only knew I wasn’t leaving it entirely in his control.
I pulled open the freezer drawer, grabbed a clean freezer bag, and scraped some of the untouched food inside. Noah held the drawer steady while I sealed the bag and hid it behind a half-empty package of frozen peas.
Then I put the blue plate back exactly where Daniel had left it.
Almost exactly.
My hands were shaking so badly that I couldn’t tell whether I’d moved it an inch or two.
We still needed help.
Then I remembered the corded phone Daniel had complained about for years.
It was hidden in the narrow cabinet beside the pantry, behind a stack of old takeout menus.
