“Who was it?” I asked.
“A wrong number,” he replied.
But I had heard his last sentence:
Don’t come near my daughter.
Guests left around ten o’clock at night. Grandma offered to stay with us, but Dad stubbornly refused. He didn’t even let me open the door when the last guests left. He himself stood by the entrance, waited until his cars walked away and then locked the door and also placed the upper latch. By then, I was convinced that someone was watching us.
“Now tell me what’s going on,” I demanded.
Dad remained silent for several seconds. Then he picked up his phone, sent a message to someone and told me to go up to his bedroom. Next to his bed he had already placed an armchair with a pillow and a blanket.
You will sleep here, in the armchair, and I will sleep in the bed “he said.” We’ll close the door from the inside.
I asked him if we were in danger. He sat on the edge of the bed and covered his face with his hands.
I made a bad decision, Emily. I thought I could take care of everything by myself. But I’m afraid something will happen tonight.
A chill went through my whole body. I remembered the phone call, the curtains closed and the fact that Dad hadn’t allowed me to come back from school alone for several days. At half past eleven, we heard a noise down. Someone slowly opened the kitchen door.
I jumped off the chair. Dad immediately grabbed my hand and took a finger to his lips. Then the lights of a vehicle went through the window. Someone knocked on the front door three times. Dad paled.
“Stay here,” he said.
He didn’t want to let him go, but he left the room and closed the bedroom door behind him. At first I heard whispers below, followed by heavy steps. Someone was going up the stairs. The doorknob began to move.
“Emily, open the door,” I heard my father say.
