“And what about bringing me here? Was that a simple reaction too?”

The mop stopped moving back and forth. It leaned on it. “You were going to call the police, and I needed time to think. Obviously, things looked bad.”

Melissa moved closer. It had gotten in through the main door, but how did It intend to get out? The exit didn’t seem to have a key or a handle or even a knob. She’d felt around for one in the dark and only made contact with cold metal. It would leave at some point. She needed to follow It.

“You’ve had time to think,” she said, taking another step toward It.

“And I think you should tell the police what happened, but as a first-person witness. You should say that you saw Nate become aggressive with me and pull the gun, and I reacted in self-defense.”

“How do I explain why I am only coming forward now?”

It threw up a hand. Or, at least, Melissa guessed that’s what had happened. She’d felt air whip toward her. “Say you were afraid and hid out for a couple days.”

“Leaving my kid to wonder if I’d died. Leaving Ava.”

Melissa’s voice broke on her daughter’s name. Aside from escape, Ava dominated her thoughts. She pictured her child in that house, mourning her father, fearing for her mom. It had to know that there was no way she could believably confess to letting her daughter go through that. “How is she?”

“Safe.” For the first time since the shooting, she heard an emotion other than panic or resolve in Its voice.

“Did she…” Melissa trailed off, her voice crumbling. “Did she see her father?”

“No. The news said the maid found Nate while Ava was at school.”

Relief dribbled through her, damaging Melissa’s resolve. She would need every ounce of aggression to follow It out of this place. Every bit of strength to do what was necessary. Yet she was crying. She couldn’t stop crying.

“So, what do you say?” It asked.

Melissa couldn’t answer through her tears. She couldn’t even process the question.

The bucket started to roll across the floor. Melissa could hear the sound of wheels on wood. It was backing into the shadows. Departing. “You can have time to think,” It said.

She ran toward where It had vanished. The little light from the bathroom didn’t reach more than a foot outside the small closet. Again, she was plunged into blackness, into a space so dark that she couldn’t see her own hands at the tip of her nose. Then, suddenly, a sliver of light became visible, the last stage before a new moon.