“Bullshit. If she’d come this way, she would have run right past you. No way you didn’t see her, not unless she—” He lurches backward, one long leap from the hallway into the playroom. I clock his movements by sound, footsteps moving deeper into the playroom, solid furniture scraping across the floor, a door creaking open. The hidden hallway to the guest room bath. He knows about it, too.

“Beatrix, now’s the time to get out here, hon.” The man’s voice is muffled now, and it’s coming at me in stereo—from the playroom across the hall, louder from behind me, somewhere deep in the bathroom. Heavy footsteps come from that direction, too, elephant stomps moving closer. “Beatrix!”

Baxter steps into the hall in a fresh shirt and Batman pajama pants, and I choke on a sob. I hate that he’s seeing me like this. I hate that I can’t protect him.

He sees me and waves. “Hi, Mommy.”

It rolls over me like a hurricane—how helpless I am to help him, strapped to this chair. If I told Bax to run, he’d never make it far. If I told him to hide, his giggling would give him away. I can’t do anything to protect him because I am tied to a chair.

I suck down my tears. Push a smile up my cheeks so as not to frighten him. “Hey, big guy. How’re you doing?”

“Good.” He bounces his shoulders. “I had an accident, though.”

“That’s okay, baby. It hap—”

“Jade.”

He’s here now, coming in long, angry strides out of the bathroom. He pulls the gun from his cargo paints and aims at my head, not stopping until the metal makes contact with my forehead. I squeal and rear back until my head is flush against the wall.

“Did she come through here? Because if she did and you lie about it, you and I are going to have a big problem.”

“I already told you, I don’t know. I don’t know where Beatrix is.”

I say it with conviction because it is not a lie. Also, if he shoots me now, Bax will see. He will watch his mother be murdered. Pretty much number one on the list of how to mess up a six-year-old for life.

“Beatrix didn’t come through here, I swear.”

I say the words while in my head, I’m listening for the beeping of the alarm pad. If she’d left, out the window or one of the doors, the alarm would be wailing. There’s nothing but silence from downstairs. Wherever she is, Beatrix is still inside.

The man stares at me through slitted eyes, his mouth going thin with realization. He’s done the same math. He knows Beatrix is still in the house, too.

“Where, Jade?”

“I don’t know. You were supposed to be watching her.”