Christopher
The door bangs shut, echoing through the hallway.
Agnes’s hurried footsteps follow, her shoes squeaking faintly against the hardwood floor. She’s rushing, trying not to draw attention, but she’s never been good at subtlety.
I glance at Celia and Celeste, their faces masks of calm, but I know better. We’re all on edge.
“They’re back,” I announce.
“Call her in,” Celia says, her voice icy but composed. “We need to know what she’s hiding.”
I nod and step into the hallway. Edward is perched at the bottom of the staircase, playing with one of his toy trucks. He looks up at me with a wide grin.
“Edward, go upstairs and get cleaned up,” I say, ruffling his hair. “Put on some fresh clothes, alright?”
“Yes, Daddy!” He chirps, his small feet pounding the stairs as he races up.
“A
