A loud thud reverberated through the house. But her only concern at the moment was for her daughter.
Brenda didn’t dare turn on a light. She couldn’t be sure if the intruder had left or was still in the house. She flung herself through the door to Janey’s room, slammed it shut and locked it.
She fell to her knees next to the bed, grabbed her sobbing child and wrapped her in her arms. Pressed her lips to her hair and softly shushed her.
Then she listened, held her breath in an attempt to hear above the hammering in her chest…the roaring of blood in her ears.
Quiet…nothing.
Scrape…scrape.
Wait! Another surge of adrenaline fired through her.
Brenda held perfectly still, listened.
Scrape…scrape. The wind…and that damned tree limb. She relaxed the tiniest bit.
Maybe it was over now… That loud thud may have been a door. Brenda forced her brain to think, to analyze the situation.
Someone had been inside the house…shoved her to the floor.
“Janey,” she whispered, “I need you to hide while I see if it’s safe now.”
“Noooo,” her baby whimpered. She snuggled closer to her mother.
“We have to call the police,” Brenda whispered. “I need my phone.” She should have picked it up when she got out of bed. What had she been thinking?
Certainly not about an intruder. Only that she needed to get up and check on her child.
“It’s in my room. I’ll be right back for you.”
“I’m scared,” Janey cried.
Brenda stood, holding her daughter close against her, and crossed the room. She opened the door to the closet and lowered to her knees. She settled Janey on the floor at the back of the small space.
“You stay in here. Don’t come out for anything. I’ll be back to get you in just a minute, okay?”
Her daughter nodded fearfully, tears running down her cheeks.
Pushing back to her feet, Brenda closed the door. She stretched her neck. Squared her shoulders and walked to the bedroom door.
She closed her eyes and listened. Nothing. Not even the wind. She reached out, touched the knob…released the button lock. Deep breath. She opened the door.
Blackness greeted her. But no sound…no solid body…no eyes. A shiver raced through her. Was he gone?
Hopefully.
She walked into the hall and started toward her bedroom, listening intently. With every step, she moved more quickly. When she at last had her phone in her hand she entered the necessary numbers.
“9-1-1, what is the nature of your emergency?” the voice on the phone said, sending some small measure of relief through her.
“I woke to an intruder in the house,” Brenda explained as she walked to the third bedroom, poked her head through the open door and glanced around as best she could without turning on the light. If he was still outside or nearby somewhere she didn’t want him to see lights coming on. Was that the right thing to do? She wasn’t sure. “My name is Brenda Devers.” She recited her address in answer to the call taker’s question. Then she moved on toward the living room.
“Are you safe, Ms. Devers?”
“Yes. I think so. He appears to be gone but I’m not sure. My four-year-old daughter and I are here alone.”
The call taker assured Brenda that a pair of officers were already en route and should arrive within five minutes. Brenda was to stay on the line.