The moment the door closed behind us, I couldn’t wait any longer. “Where did you get that necklace?” He touched it. “This? My dad gave it to me.” My heart started pounding. “Your father — what’s his name?” His smile disappeared. “Michael.”
I pulled the basement door shut and turned the key.
Noah grabbed the handle from the other side immediately. “Mrs. Diane?” “We’re calling the police,” I said through the door, my voice steadier than I felt. “I’ll explain everything.” “Why did you lock me in here?” Footsteps came running from the kitchen — Tyler, holding two sodas, staring at the locked door, then at me. “What are you doing?” “I need to make a phone call.” “Why is Noah locked in our basement?” Noah shouted through the door: “I haven’t done anything!” “I know,” I called back. Tyler looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Then why are you calling the police?”
