“Please… let me out. I’m afraid of the dark.”
The trembling whisper pierced the early morning silence in a mansion on the outskirts of San Diego. Daniel Harrington had just returned home unannounced after abruptly canceling a business trip to Berlin. For three nights in a row, he’d had the same nightmare: his young daughter crying, calling for him from somewhere enclosed. This time, he decided not to ignore the feeling that gripped his chest.
It was exactly 2:00 a.m. when he went upstairs to his eight-year-old daughter Lily’s room. The door was ajar. As he gently pushed it open, Daniel felt an eerie chill. The room was spotless. The bed was perfectly made, as if no one had slept there. Lily’s favorite stuffed animal was carefully placed on the pillow.
Then he heard it.
A soft, almost imperceptible tapping was coming from the built-in closet. Daniel caught his breath and opened the door.
Inside, curled up on the floor, was Lily. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. She wore only thin pajamas. There was no blanket, no pillow. Her face was pale, her eyes swollen and red from crying.
“Lily… what are you doing here?” he whispered, feeling his heart break.
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“Daddy,” she sobbed, throwing herself into his arms. “I thought you were a dream. Mommy said you died in Germany. That you’d never come back.”
Daniel felt dizzy. When he lifted her, he noticed something even more alarming: his daughter was too light. Her arms felt fragile, almost like bones beneath the skin.
“How long have you been sleeping here?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“Since you left three days ago… but before that too, many times,” Lily replied in a whisper. “Mommy says to keep me locked up so I learn to behave.”
Daniel quickly carried her to bed and turned on all the lights. He noticed purple marks on the little girl’s arms and a deep fear that didn’t belong to someone her age. In that instant, he understood that his absence had allowed something terrible to happen.
Downstairs in the kitchen, he heard footsteps. Someone was awake. It was his wife, Vanessa.
Daniel gritted his teeth. What had really been happening in that house while he was gone? And what else had Lily suffered in silence?
Daniel carefully closed Lily’s bedroom door and sat beside her until the trembling in her body subsided. The little girl fell asleep clutching his hand tightly, as if afraid he would disappear again. Daniel watched her ragged breathing and felt a mixture of guilt and rage burning inside him.
He had trusted Vanessa. For years, he had believed that, even though their marriage was full of silences and tension, she would never hurt her own daughter. Now, every memory took on a new meaning: the cold phone calls, the brief text messages, the excuses when Lily didn’t want to talk on a video call.
He went down to the kitchen and found Vanessa sitting with a cup of coffee, as if nothing had happened.
“Since when have you been locking our daughter in a closet?” Daniel asked bluntly.
